Ralph Waldo Emerson; his life, genius, and writings. A biographical sketch

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RALPH WALDO EMERSON

HIS

LIFE, GENIUS, AND WRITINGS
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

TO WHICH ARE ADDED

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS VISITS TO ENGLAND

EXTRACTS FROM UNPUBLISHED LETTERS

AND MISCELLANEOUS CHARACTERISTIC RECORDS

ALEXANDER IRELAND

Sccont) Edition, largely Hugmcntc6

THREE AUTOTYPE PORTRAITS

LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO.
1882

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

9

ps

Plutarch says that when Cicero, as a young man, visited the oracle at
Delphi, the advice given him was to make his own genius, not the opinions
of others, the guide of his life.

One who of such a height hath built his mind,
And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong,
As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame
Of his resoIvM powers,

nor pierce to wrong

His settled peace, nor to disturb the same ;

Which makes, that whatsoever here befalls.
He in the region of himself remains.

Samuel Daniel (1562-1619).

PREFACE.

The rapid sale (within twelve weeks) of the first edition
of this work has encouraged its author to prepare a
second, augmented to considerably more than double
its former size by the addition of matter which cannot
fail to be interesting to admirers of Emerson. The
"Biographical Sketch" has been increased from forty-
seven to one hundred and twenty-nine pages, — the
"Recollections of his three Visits to England," from
twenty-five to forty-one pages, — and the "Miscellaneous
Characteristic Records," from thirty-four to ninety-two
pages. An important addition has been made in the
shape of twenty-eight pages of Tributes to Emerson's life
and genius, delivered at a special meeting of the Massachu-
setts Historical Society, in Boston, in May last, by Dr. Ellis,
Judge Hoar, and Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, the well-
known author of "The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table,"
"Elsie Venner," "The Guardian Angel," and other works.
For the beautiful memorial volume containing these
addresses the author is indebted to the kindness of Dr.
Holmes. The volume is unknown in England, no notice
of it even having appeared on this side of the Atlantic.
Dr. Holmes's eloge, coming as it does from the heart of
one of Emerson's most intimate and cherished friends —

viii PREFACE.

himself a man of rare genius — possesses a deep interest
not only on account of the spirit which pervades it, but
also for its consummate literary expres^on.

The reader of the following pages will find in them
many illustrative passages in connection with Emerson,
without which any account of his life and work, however
brief, would be inadequate. Among them may be
named — his friendly relations with Margaret Fuller, per-
haps the most remarkable woman of culture of her time ;
exercising, during her unfortunately brief life, an acknow-
ledged influence on the best thought of New England, —
his connection with "The Dial," the most remarkable
organ of high thought published in our time, — an account
of that singular social experiment, " The Brook Farm
Community," idealized by the weird genius of Hawthorne
in that saddest of fictions, "The Blithedale Romance," —
the resignation of his pastoral charge in 1832, and his
sermon and farewell letter in connection therewith, — his
addresses on Robert Burns and Walter Scott, — and his
notable speech in Manchester in 1847, in which he gave
utterance to his confidence in, and admiration of, England.
Among the " Miscellaneous Characteristic Records " and
"Anecdotes" will be found some impressions and glimpses
that enable us, by a side-light, as it were, to see Emerson
almost face to face.

In the " Biographical Sketch," the author has
endeavoured to bring out in fuller detail some of
Emerson's characteristics as a thinker, writer, and public
lecturer, as well as his personal bearing in the family and
social circle. This has been done by freely using what

PREFACE. ix

has been written about him by others — chiefly those
who knew him well, and enjoyed his intimate friendship.
Wherever he has found a vivid presentment of Emerson,
the author has not hesitated to make use of it, and to
incorporate it in his sketch, in order to add to the com-
pleteness of the picture. In this respect he has been
but "a gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff." His
object throughout has been to present a likeness of
Emerson as true as he can make it — to the fidelity
of which not merely his own opportunities of observation,
but also the faithful reports of friends and life-long
associates have contributed. In the pages which follow,
the reader may see, through many different eyes, some-
thing of the personality and surroundings of the most
original thinker and highest-reaching ethical teacher
his country has produced — who, during a long, serene,
and beautiful life — a life, the end and aim of which was
" to make truth lovely, and manhood valorous " — has
exercised on some of the most thoughtful minds of his
age an influence probably not exceeded by that of any
other wTiter of the century.

Inglewood,

BowDON, Cheshire,
October 21, 18

[Of the three portraits in this volume, the first was
taken about 1873, when Emerson was in his 70th year;
the second is reduced from a large one which he sent
to the author in 1867, taken probably a few years before.
The youngest portrait is from a daguerreotype taken
while he was in England, in 1847, he being then in his
44th year. His own family regard this likeness as the
best, at this period of his life. There was a crayon hke-
ness of him of rare excellence, taken at an earlier period
of his life, by an American artist, Samuel Rowse, of
which the writer has a photographic copy, and which he
would have wished to include with the others, but it has
been found too faded for successful reproduction.]

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Ralph Wai.do Emerson :— His Life, Genius, and Writings :

A Biographical Sketch ...... i

The Funeral : Address of the Rev. J. Freeman Clarice, &c. 130
Recollections of Emerson's Visits to England in

1833, 1847-8, and 1872-3 140

Letters to Thos. Carlyle on "The Life of Friedrich "

and The American Civil War, 1S59-1S64 . .182

Letter to the Rev. Dr. Sprague, with Reminiscences

of the Rev. Ezra Ripley, D.D., 1 848 . . .191
Letters to Alex. Ireland, 1833 to 1873 . . .196
TRIP.UTF.S to Emerson : Addresses by Dr. Ellis, Judge
Hoar, and Dr. OHver Wendell Holmes, at the Meeting
of the Massachusetts Historical Society, May 11, 1882. 217
William Henry Channing on Emerson . . . 240
Miscellaneous Characteristic Records :

Emerson's House and Surroundings .... 246
Emerson at Home, Sketches by G. W. Curtis, A. B.

Alcott, N. Hawthorne, &c 249

Emerson as a Listener. — His Conversation . . . 255
Frederika Bremer's Visit to Emerson .... 257

The Voung Preacher . . . • • .261

Emerson Hissed while speaking against the Fugitive

Slave Law ....... 263

A Mother's Conversation with Emerson in a Railway

Car 266

CONTENTS.

Awkward Position while on a Lecturing Tour

Mr. A. B. Alcott and his Daughters .

Emerson and his Daughter ....

"INIonday Conversations"' at Concord

Concord and its Scenery .....

The " School of Philosophy" at Concord, 1880 .

A Touching Conversation, 1881 .

G. J. Holyoake's Visit .....

Some Literary Opinions .....

Harmony between his Life and Teachings .

Latest Glimpses of Emerson, by Walt Whitman .

Characteristic Anecdotes

The Brook Farm Community Experiment .

Emerson's Resignation of his Pastoral Charge in 1832
,, Speech in Manchester, 1847
,, Speech on Robert Burns, 1859 .
,, Address on Sir Walter Scott, 1871

" Emerson and Carlyle," by J. R. Lowell .

Articles on Emerson in English and American Periodical

Books, Pamphlets, &c., on Emerson .

Magazine Articles, <S:c., since his Death

Foreign Translations of, and Articles on Emerson

I'AGE

270

272

278
280
283
288

291

292

293
294

296

299
308
319
323
326

329
332

334
336
336
jj7

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Wf

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

'TT^HE grave has scarcely closed over the
-■- remains of the great man whose renown all
over the world is more firmly established than that
of any Englishman of his time,* when the news
comes to us that the foremost thinker and philo-
sopher of America has joined the ranks of the
majority. America has produced great soldiers,
distinguished men of science, and poets of world-
wide fame, but it is not too much to say that since
the Declaration of Independence no man has so
powerfully influenced the intellect of the nation as
Ralph Waldo Emerson. On Thursday night, April
27th, at nine o'clock, at his house in Concord, Mass.,
surrounded by those dearest to him, this great man

Charles Darwin died April 19th, 1882.

B

2 IN MEMORIAM:

peaceably departed. He leaves a widow, a son —
Dr. Edward Emerson, of Concord, — and two
daughters. The eldest, Ellen — his devoted and
helpful companion whenever he left home, his
amanuensis in later years, and, as he sometimes
lovingly called her, his " memory " — is unmarried.
The youngest, Edith, is married to Colonel W. H.
Forbes, of Milton Hill, Mass., and has several
children. When they visited England in 1872,
bringing their children with them, Mr. Carlyle sat
for a likeness, with Emerson's grandson, Ralph,
then a fine boy of twelve or thirteen, standing by
his knee.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, the most original and
independent thinker and greatest moral teacher
that America has produced, was born at Boston
on May 25th, 1803. He was a legitimate product
of Puritanism. As far back as his family is traced
it has been represented by ministers of the old
faith of New England, the founder of it having
voyaged thither with his congregation from Glou-
cestershire, in England, in 1635, and each of these
ministers was associated wath some phase of that
faith, whether Calvinism, Universalism, or Uni-
tarianism. He sprang on both sides from clerical
stock, and his ancestry forms an indispensable
explanation and background of every page of his

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 3

writings. The Emerson family were intellectual,
eloquent, with a strong individuality of character,
robust and vigorous in their thinking — practical and
philanthropic. His father was the Rev. William
Emerson, pastor of the First (Unitarian) Church
of Boston, and was noted for his vigorous mind,
earnestness of purpose, and gentleness of manner.
The boy lost his father when he was but eight years
old. His mother was described as " a woman of
great sensibility, modest, serene, and very devout.
She was possessed of a thoroughly sincere nature,
devoid of all sentimentalism, and of a temper the
most even and placid — (one of her sons said that in
his boyhood, when she came from her room in the
morning, it seemed to him as if she always came
from communion with God) — possessed great
patience and fortitude, had the serenest trust in
God, was of a discerning spirit, and a most cour-
teous bearing, one who knew how to guide the
affairs of her house, and to exercise the sweetest
authority. Both her mind and her character were
of a superior order, and they set their stamp upon
manners of peculiar softness and natural grace and
quiet dignity. Her sensible and kindly speech was
always as good as the best instruction ; her smile,
though it was ever ready, was a reward. Her dark,
liquid eyes, from which old age did not take away

4 IN MEMORIAM :

the expression, were among the remembrances of
all on whom they ever rested."

The subject of this memoir was the second of
five brothers. William, the eldest, graduated at
Harvard in 1820. Although wanting the genius of
the others, he was said to have been " a man whom
it was a privilege to know." Edward, the third
brother, who gave early promise of the rarest and
most brilliant qualities, was of a robust moral
nature, and high-toned in his ideas of duty, and
" incapable," as his brother Waldo said, " of self-
indulgence." He died in 1834. Peter Bulkeley, the
fourth brother, died in early life. Charles Chauncy,
the youngest of the family, graduated at Harvard in
1828. He died of consumption in 1836. Both these
young men possessed unusual gifts of intellect, and
the little they did of literary work was of the very
best. That exquisite poem, "The Dirge," by Ralph
Waldo, expresses, with unsurpassed tenderness, his
sense of their loss. Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes
speaks of Edward and Charles as young men of
" exceptional and superior natural endowments.
Edward was of the highest promise. Of Charles I
knew something in my college days. A beautiful,
high-souled, pure, exquisitely delicate nature in a
slight but finely- wrought mortal frame, he was for me
the very ideal of an embodied celestial intelligence.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 5

. . . I felt as many have felt after being with
his brother, Ralph Waldo, that I had entertained
an angel visitant. The Fawn of Marvell's imagi-
nation survives in my memory as the fitting image
to recall this beautiful youth, a soul glowing like
the rose of morning with enthusiasm, a character
white as the lilies in its purity."

Mary Emerson, Waldo's aunt, assisted his mother
in bringing up the boys. She was "a woman of many
remarkable qualities, high-toned in motive and con-
duct to the greatest degree, very conscientious, and
with an unconventional regard of social forms."
Waldo was greatly indebted to her. He once said
that her influence upon his education had been as
great as that of Greece or Rome. She was well
read in theology, and a scholar of no mean abilities.
In her old age she was described as "still retaining
all the oddities and enthusiasms of her youth — a
person at war with society as to all its decorums,
who enters into conversation with everybody, and
talks on every subject ; is sharp as a razor in her
satire, and sees you through and through in a
moment. She has read all her life in the most
miscellaneous way ; and her appetite for meta-
physics is insatiable.. Her power over her young
friends was almost despotic." There was another
remarkable woman who exercised much influence

6 IN MEMORIAM:

on his early life — Sarah Bradford, afterwards the
wife of Samuel Ripley. She, like his aunt, was a
great lover of books, and " both of them were
unusually well-informed for the time ; under their
lead he early came to love Plato." One of the
earliest of the serious books he read was a transla-
tion of the " Pensees " of Pascal, which he used to
carry to church with him, and to peruse diligently.

" In this pious and conscientious household,"
says Mr. Cooke,* " the mother and aunt exer-
cised a rare influence over him and his brothers.
The most careful economy had to be practised,
and they grew up with the strictest regard for
all that is good and true. They were care-
fully and conscientiously trained at home, especially
in regard to every moral virtue. Honesty, pro-
bity, unselfishness — these virtues they had deeply
instilled into them." At eight years of age he
entered the public grammar-school, and soon after,
the Latin School, in which he made good pro-
gress. This is apparent from a letter written to
him, when he was eleven, by Miss Bradford, urging
him to send her a translation from Virgil, and to

*" Ralph Waldo Emerson; his Life, Writings, and Philosophy,"
by George Willis Cooke. To this volume, which contains the
fullest and most accurate record of Emerson's Life and Works yet
published, the author of this Memoir has been much indebted
during its compilation.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 7

write her a letter in Latin or in Greek, or tell her
what most interests him in Rollin. In response, he
returned her a poetic version of part of the fifth
bucolic. He was fond of writing verses as school
exercises, and was an eager reader of books of
history. In one of his essays he takes us into his
confidence with regard to his habits of reading in
those early days, where he says, ''The regular
course of studies, the years of academical and pro-
fessional education, have not yielded me better
facts than some idle books under the bench at the
Latin School. What we do not call education is
more precious than that which we do call so."

Rufus Dawes, who knew Emerson as a boy,
gives us in his " Boyhood Memoirs " (1843) ^
sight of the boy when he was about ten years
old : — " It is eight o'clock a.m. ; and the thin
gentleman in black, with a small jointed cane
under his arm, his eyes deeply sunken in his
head, has asked that spiritual-looking boy in blue
nankeen, who seems to be about ten years old,
to ' touch the bell ; ' — it was a privilege to do
this; — and there he stands, that boy, whose image,
more than any others, is still deeply stamped upon
my mind, as I then saw him and loved him, I
knew not why, and thought him so angelic and
remarkable — feeling towards him more than a

8 IN MEMORIAM:

boy's emotion — as if a new spring of brotherly
affection had suddenly broken loose in my heart.
There is no indication of turbulence and disquiet
about him ; but with a happy combination of
energy and gentleness, how truly is he the father
of the man ! He has touched the bell, and while
he takes his seat among his fellows, he little dreams
that in after times he will strike a different note."*
Young Emerson entered Harvard University in
his fourteenth year, viz., in 1817. Edward Everettwas
then Professor of Greek Literature. His lecturing
and Sundaypreaching had a powerful influence upon
the boy student. Ticknor was also a professor at

*Since the First Edition of this Memoir was published, the author
of it has received from the venerable Dr. Furness, of Philadelphia —
Emerson's schoolfellow and senior by about a year — a letter, from
which he ventures to give the following extract, partly relating
to the school-day period of their lives : — " The language of eulogy
is apt to run wild, but I have no words to tell my sense of the
greatness and worth of R. W. E. I cannot remember when I did
not know and admire him. We learned our ABC together. We
sate together at our writing school when he, ten years of age, and I
eleven, wrote verses on our naval battles in the war of 1812. The
only time I can remember when he played was (when we were some
six or seven years old) on the floor of my mother's chamber. He
lived always from the earliest in a serene world of letters. Never
since Shakespeare has our English tongue been used with such
beauty as by our great friend. ... I have never presumed to
analyse him. I have not needed to do so. 'The affections are
their own justification.' The reverence, the love he inspired, bear
witness to his rare worth. — Yours faithfully, W. H. Furness,"

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 9

that time, and was an inspiring influence to the
students. In the class before his (E.'s) were Furness
and Gannett, (afterwards Dr. Channing's co-pastor).
Every graduating class in the university elects a
poet and an orator for its celebration, which is called
"class-day," and Emerson was chosen as the poet of
his class. In his junior year he received a Bowdoin
prize for an essay on " The Character of Socrates,"
and in his senior year he again gained a prize,
his subject being "The Present State of Ethical
Philosophy." Among his companions he was
already distinguished for literary attainments, and
more especially for a certain charm in the delivery
of his addresses. He was then described as " a
slender, delicate youth, younger than most of his
classmates, and of a sensitive, retiring nature."
According to his own account he received but little
instruction from his professors that was of value to
him. His favourite study was Greek, and his
translations of the classical authors were neat and
happy. In mathematics he could make no head-
way, and in philosophy he did not get on very well.
He was a great reader, and studied much outside
of the prescribed course. Even before entering
college he was well read. His favourite books
were the old English poets and dramatists —
Shakespeare and his contemporaries. Shakespeare

lo IN MEMO RI AM:

he knew almost by heart. Montaigne had special
attraction for him. When a boy, he found a
volume of his Essays among his father's books;
after leaving college it again came to his notice,
and he procured the remaining volumes. " I
remember the deliglit and wonder in which I
lived with him. It seemed to me as if I had myself
written the book in some former life, so sincerely
did he speak to my thought and experience."
Tillotson, St. Augustine, and Jeremy Taylor were
also among his favourite authors. In 1823 he began
the study of theolog>^ At this time Dr. Channing's
conversation and preaching were an important in-
fluence. " The outcome of this eminent j^reachcr's
most cherished ideas being a practical reliance on
the soul of man as a medium of truth and goodness,
Emerson eagerly embraced the essential spirit of
his teaching. To the young student the contact
with such a man was worth more than any formal
instruction." After graduation he entered upon
his studies in the Unitarian Divinity College
connected with the University. After he had
graduated from the Divinity College and been
"approbated" for the ministry, he was led to visit
the far South — South Carolina and Florida — on
account of impaired health. On his return he was
settled in 1829 as colleague to Henry Ware in the

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. ii

pastorate of the Second Church (Unitarian) of
Boston. A year afterwards Mr. Ware's health broke
down, and he was compelled to go to Europe,
whence he returned only to resign his charge, and
Emerson then became sole minister of the church.
He was afterwards appointed chaplain to the State
Legislature. His preaching attracted considerable
attention, though it brought no crowd. Many an old
hearer afterwards remembered these discourses in
reading his essays. A venerable lady of those days,
a member of his congregation, when asked what was
his chief characteristic as a minister, said : " On
God's law doth he meditate day and night." In
September, 1829, he married Helen Louisa Tucker,
to whom he addressed a beautiful poem, " To
Ellen at the South." She died of consumption in
February, 1832.

Emerson's earliest appearance in print, we
believe, was in an address, delivered in 1830, at the
ordination of the Rev. H. B. Goodwin, as colleague
of Dr. Ripley, in the Concord Church. " On this
occasion," says Mr. Cooke, "Emerson took part, and
gave 'the right hand of fellowship ;' and it is the only
discourse or address of his printed during his ministry.
Itindicates a general acceptanceof the customsof the
church, and a general reception of its most cherished
ideas. In personally addressing his friend, he

12 IN MEM OR I AM:

said, — ' It is with sincere pleasure that I speak
for the church on this occasion, and on the spot
hallowed to all by so many patriotic, and, to me,
by so many affectionate, recollections. I feel a
peculiar, a personal right to welcome you hither to
the home and the temple of my fathers. I believe
the church whose pastor you are will forgive me
the allusion, if I express the extreme interest which
every man feels in the scene of the trials and labours
of his ancestors. Five out of seven of your pre-
decessors are my kindred. They are in the dust
who bind my attachment to this place ; but not all.
I cannot help congratulating you that one survives,
to be to you the true friend and venerable counsellor
he has ever been to me.'"

Owing to a conscientious disinclination to con-
duct the communion service, he decided to resign
his pastorate. On September 9th, 1832, he preached
a remarkable sermon on the subject, giving a history
of the rite of the "Communion Supper," and setting
forth his reasons for rejecting the commemoration
of it in the sense generally entertained. This
sermon has been described as "justifying all the
praise accorded to his pulpit abilities — being
dispassionate, truly religious, and very charming
in its quiet and yet earnest style. The rite
seemed to him a repudiation of that spiritual

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 13

worship which Jesus taught, and a return to the
forms from which he sought to hberate men." Mr.
Frothingham, in his " Transcendentalism in New
England," thus characterises the discourse: "It was
a model of lucid, orderly, and simple statement ;
so plain that the young men and women of the
congregation could understand it ; so deep and
elevated that experienced believers were fed ;
learned enough, without a taint of pedantry ;
bold, without a suggestion of audacity; reasonable,
without critical sharpness or affectation of mental
superiority ; rising into natural eloquence in
passages that contained pure thought, but for
the most part flowing in unartificial sentences
that exactly expressed the speaker's meaning and
no more."

Many of Emerson's poems were written during
these early years — a well-known one among the
number beginning

Good-bye, proud world ! I'm going home.

Mr. Cooke says it has been referred to the period
after his leaving the pulpit, but he adds that this is
incorrect. " It simply indicates the spirit and
purpose of the young man, his genius, his high
ideals, his love of a life of meditation, and his
scorn for the shams and shows and low motives
of the world. It was written before he left the

14 IN MEMORIAM:

ministry, and shows his intense love of nature,

and the devoutness of his mind." Here are the

concluding lines : —

I am going to my own hearth-stone,
Bosomed in yon green hills alone, —
A secret nook in a pleasant land,
Whose groves the frolic fairies planned ;
Where arches green, the live-long day.
Echo the blackbird's roundelay,
And vulgar feet have never trod
A spot that is sacred to Thought and God,

O, when I am safe in my sylvan home,
I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome ;
And when I am stretched beneath the pines,
Where the evening star so holy shines,
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,
At the sophist schools, and the learned clan ;
For what are they all, in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet ?

After his resignation his health broke down,
and he was advised to take a sea voyage. Unable
to appear in the pulpit again, he addressed an
affectionate letter of farewell to his congregation,
dated 22nd December, 1832,* His health did not
improve during the winter, and he embarked early
in the spring of 1833 for Europe. He sailed up the

* The Sermon and Letter here alluded to contain so much that
is characteristic of Emerson, even at this early period of his life,
that extracts from both are given at the end of the volume.
They will be read with interest by students of his mind and
character.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 15

Mediterranean in a vessel bound for Sicily, and
went as far eastward as Malta. Returning through
Italy, where he dined with Walter Savage Landor in
Florence — finding him "noble and courteous, living
in a cloud of pictures at his villa Gherardesca" —
" If Goethe had been still living, I might have
wandered into Germany also. Besides those I
have named, — Coleridge, Wordsworth, De Ouincey,
and Carlyle — (for Scott was dead), there was not
the man living whom I cared to behold, unless it
were the Duke of Wellington, whom I saw in
Westminster Abbey at the funeral of Wilberforce."
He visited France, and in July reached London.
He called on Coleridge, whom he describes in his
" English Traits." In August of the same year (1833)
he made a pilgrimage to Scotland. He remained
some days in Edinburgh, and delivered a discourse
in the Unitarian Chapel there, recollections of
which happily still survive. Desirous of personally
acknowledging to Carlyle his indebtedness for the
spiritual benefit he had derived from certain of his
writings — notably the concluding passage in the
article on German Literature, and the paper entitled
" Characteristics " — he found his way, after many
hindrances, to Craigenputtock, among the desolate
hills of the parish of Dunscore, in Dumfriesshire,
where Carlyle was then living with his bright and

I6 IN MEMORIAM:

accomplished wife in perfect solitude, without a
person to speak to, or a post office within seven
miles. There he spent twenty-four hours, and
became acquainted with him at once. They
walked over miles of barren hills, and talked
upon all the great questions which interested
them most. The meeting is described in his
" English Traits," published twenty-three years
afterwards, and the account of it there given is
reprinted by Mr. Froude in his "Life of Carlyle,"
&c., lately issued. Carlyle and his wife often after-
wards spoke of that visit, "when that supernal vision,
Waldo Emerson, dawned upon us," as if it had been
the coming of an angel. They regarded Emerson
as a "beautiful apparition" in their solitude. A
letter exists (reprinted in this volume), addressed to
the present writer, a few days after the visit, giving
an account of it, as well as of one to Words-
worth. This letter, written on the spur of the
moment, and not intended for publication, contains
some details not to be found in the more elaborate
and carefully-prepared account of these two
visits which he gave to the public so many
years later. Mr. Froude says of this visit : " The
fact itself of a young American having been so
affected by his writings as to have sought him
out on the Dunscore moors, was a homage of the

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 17

kind which he (Carlyle) could especially value and
appreciate. The acquaintance then begun to their
mutual pleasure ripened into a deep friendship,
which has remained unclouded in spite of wide
divergencies of opinion throughout their working
lives, and continues warm as ever at the moment
when I am writing these words (June 27, 1880),
when the labours of both of them are over, and
they wait in age and infirmity to be called away
from a world to which they have given freely all
that they had to give."

Emerson has the distinction of having been the
first eminent literary man of either continent to
appreciate and welcome " Sartor Resartus." The
book was written in 1831 at Craigenputtock, but
could find no publisher for two years. At last it
appeared in " Fraser's Magazine " in successive
chapters, in 1833-4 (Carlyle having to accept
reduced remuneration); and it was not till 1838
that it appeared as a volume in England. While
subscribers were complaining of the " intolerable
balderdash" appearing from month to month in the
magazine, under the title of " Sartor Resartus," —
" sentences which might be read backward or for-
ward, for they are equally intelligible either way" —
and threatening to withdraw their subscriptions if
"that clotted nonsense" did not speedily cease,
c

1 8 IN MEMORIAM:

Emerson was quietly collecting the successive
numbers with a view to its publication on comple-
tion. In 1836 the American edition of the work
appeared in Boston, and was sufficiently successful
to yield a profit of ^^"150, which Emerson sent to
Carlyle — the most important sum which he had, up
to that time, received for any of his works. In
Emerson's modest preface to the book (on its first
appearance in the shape of a volume), occur these
memorable words — the earliest cordial recognition
of the originality and power of this now famous
work : —

We believe, no book has been published for many years, written

in a more sincere style of idiomatic English, or which discovers an

equal mastery over all the riches of the language. The author

makes ample amends for the occasional eccentricity of his genius,

not only by frequent bursts of pure splendour, but by the wit and

sense which never fail him. But what will chiefly commend the book

to the discerning reader is the manifest design of the work, which

is a Criticism upon the Spirit of the Age, — we had almost said, of

the hour, in which we live ; exhibiting, in the mobt just and novel

light, the present aspects of Religion, Politics, Literature, Arts,

and Social Life. Under all his gaiety, the writer has an earnest

meaning, and discovers an insight into the manifold wants and

tendencies of human nature, which is very rare among our popular

authors. The philanthropy and the purity of moral sentiment,

which inspire the work, will find their way to the heart of every

lover of virtue.

A similar service was done by Emerson some
years later in a few prefatory remarks to the

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. igi

first American reprint of Carlyle's " Critical and
Miscellaneous Essays." In this case also, the
American collected reprint preceded the one in
England. Emerson, in his preface, refers to the
influence these Essays had exerted in New
England, especially on inquiring youthful minds ;
how they spoke " with an emphasis that hindered
them from sleep."

His health, which had always been delicate,
and which in 1832 had been greatly affected by
domestic bereavement (the death of his first wife)
and the worry of controversy, was quite restored
by the voyage and his subsequent travels. After
his return to America he gave lectures before the
Boston Lyceum, — his subjects being: "Water;"
"Michael Angelo;" "Milton;" "Luther;" "George
Fox;" "Edmund Burke;" also two lectures on
"Italy," and three on "The Relation of Man to
the Globe." In August, 1835, in a lecture before
the American Institute of Instruction, his subject
was the " Means of Inspiring a Taste for English
Literature." In September of the same year he
gave a historical address in Concord, it being the
second centennial anniversary of the incorporation
of that town. In September, 1835, he married
Miss Lydia Jackson, of Plymouth. Her family
was descended from one of the earliest Plymouth

20 IN MEMORIAM :

settlers. In December, 1835, he gave a course of
ten lectures in Boston on " English Literature."
The first two were on the earlier authors, and
there were others on Chaucer, Bacon, Shakespeare,
and the subsequent great writers. In the last
lecture, he touched upon Byron, Scott, Dugald
Stewart, Mackintosh, and Coleridge. He placed
Coleridge among the sages of the world. In
succeeding seasons he gave courses on " The
Philosophy of History ; " " Human Culture ; "
" Human Life ; " " The Present Age ; " " The
Times ; " and other subjects. It is to be hoped
that many of these lectures, hitherto unprinted, will
be given to the world. At a meeting held in Con-
cord in 1836, on the completion of a monument
to commemorate the Concord fight, a hymn
was written for the occasion by Emerson, and
read by Dr. Ripley, and sung to the tune of
the "Old Hundred." It contained the immortal
lines : —

Here once the embattled farmers stood,

And fired the shot heard round the world.

In 1835 he was reading Plato and Plutarch
more diligently than ever, and began to study
Plotinus and other writers of the same class. He
also read the writings of the German mystics.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 21

including Jacob Boehmen,* as well as of the English
idealists, the poems of George Herbert (which he
keenly relished), and the prose works of Ralph
Cudworth, Henry More, Milton, Jeremy Taylor,
and Coleridge.

In 1836 appeared "Nature," a little volume of
only ninety-five pages, the contents consisting of an
Introduction, and eight chapters, entitled, Nature,
Commodity, Beauty, Language, Discipline, Ideal-
ism, Spirit, and Prospects. The spirit of its teachings
is that nature exists only for the unfolding of a
spiritual being. His ideas are in this little volume
more systematically developed than elsewhere.
They have been thus summarised : — " Every natu-
ral fact is a symbol of some spiritual fact. Nature
becomes a means of expression for these spiritual
truths and experiences, which could not otherwise
be interpreted. Its laws, also, are moral laws when
applicable to man ; and so they become to man
the language of the Divine Will. Because the

* In a letter from Miss Elizabeth Peabody, of Boston, U.S.,
editor of ".Esthetic Papers," 1S49, to the writer of this memoir
(July 2, 1S82), she says: — "His favourite book was Bcehmen's
' Way to Christ,' which I borrowed from him as late as 1S60, and
when he lent it to me he remarked, 'This is my vadc vicciun.' I
have ever felt that Emerson was ' deeper in Christ ' than any one
I knew, more entirely ' one with him ' in spirit than perhaps even
Dr. Channing. They were the two souls from whom I have
received most."

22 IN MEMORIAM:

physical laws become moral laws the moment they
are related to human conduct, Nature has a much
higher purpose than that of beauty or language —
in that it is a Discipline. It is in these views that
Emerson's resemblance to Swedenborg is apparent,
in his caring for Nature only as a symbol and reve-
lation of spiritual realities." The volume attracted
the attention and warmest enthusiasm of a few
thinkers, but it met with but a small sale, — only
500 copies being disposed of in twelve years ! The
first edition of it is now one of the rarest books in
America. A writer in " The Democratic Review "
thus spoke of it: — "The highest intellectual culture
and the simplest instinctive innocence have received
it, and felt it to be a divine thought, borne on a
stream of English undefiled, such as we had almost
despaired could flow in this our world of grist and
saw-mills." He finds evidence of "the highest
imaginative power" in it, while "it proves to us
that the only true and perfect mind is the poetic."
Another writer says of it : — " It is replete with the
deepest sentiment and the liveliest emotion. In it
the heart predominates over the brain. The style
is glowing rather than austere, rising not unfre-
quently to a lofty pitch of eloquence. It is inspired
throughout by a glad spirit born of recovered
health, a happy, new-found home, and pleasant

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 23

domestic and social surroundings. It was the first
great fruit of his genius, the ' first crushings ' of the
grapes of his intellectual vineyard — for the reason
that in it he more or less developed the germs of
his speculations and theories." In England it met
with even a heartier reception than in America. A
remarkable lecture in Boston, on " War," in March,
1838, was afterwards printed in Miss Peabody's
" Esthetic Papers " in 1849.

An oration, entitled " The American Scholar,"
delivered before the Phi-Beta-Kappa Society, at
Harvard, August 31, 1837; an address before
the literary societies of Dartmouth, on " Literary
Ethics ;" and a discourse before the senior class
in Divinity College, Cambridge, on Sunday, July
15, 1838 — won him wide notice for their origi-
nality, boldness, and power. They exercised an
immense influence on the youthful mind of New
England. A. B. Alcott, who was present at the
first of these addresses, said of it : — " I believe
that was the first adequate statement of the new
views that really attracted general attention. I
had the good fortune to hear that address ; and
I shall not forget the delight with which I heard
it, nor the mixed confusion, consternation, surprise,
and wonder with which the audience listened to it."
Lowell, who also heard it, says the delivery of this

24 IN MEMORIAM :

lecture " was an event without any former parallel
in our literary annals, a scene to be always treasured
in the memory for its picturesqueness and its in-
spiration. What crowded and breathless aisles,
what windows clustering with eager heads, what
enthusiasm of approval, what silence of foregone
dissent ! "

It was the last of the above addresses, how-
ever, which, like a trumpet-blast, most startled and
took by surprise the thoughtful minds of the country.
" It was Emerson's first, full, and direct expression
of his faith in moral power and self-trust, and his
repudiation of all commands laid on us from the
teachings of other men, unless their thought is
verified in our own nature." He said that the
ofifice of the preacher was dying, and the church
tottering to its fall ! " The real work of the pulpit
is not discharged. Preaching is the expression of
moral sentiment in application to the duties of life.
In how many churches, by how many prophets, tell
me, is man made sensible that he is a living soul.
. . The true preacher can be known by this,
that he deals out to his people his life — life passed
through the fire of thought. Man is not made to
feel that he is an infinite soul ; the life of to-day is
not touched ; actual experience brings no lessons.
The redemption is to be sought in the Soul.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 25

The present evils of the church are many, and
need much to be put away. We need more
faith. The old forms are good enough if new life
be breathed into them. The remedy for these evils
is — first, soul ; and second, soul ; and evermore soul."

This renowned address was warmly criticised,
and as warmly defended, and Mr. Cooke tells us
that the agitation caused by it reached such a
height that the " Christian Examiner " thought it
necessary in behalf of the Unitarians of the
Divinity School to make a formal renunciation of
the views given forth in it.*

The Rev. Henry Ware, then the most prominent
professor in the School, addressed to Emerson a
friendly expostulation against the doctrines of this
discourse. In reply Emerson said : "What you say
about the discourse at Divinity College is just
what I might expect from your truth and charity,
combined with your known opinions. I am not a
stick or a stone, as one said in the old time, and
could not feel but pain in saying some things in

*In the letter from Miss Elizabeth Peabody, quoted at p. 21,
she says : — " Dr. Charming regarded the address at Divinity Hall as
an entirely justifiable and needed criticism on the perfunctory
character of service creeping over the Unitarian Churches at the
time. He hailed the commotion of thought it stirred up as a sign
that 'something did live in the embers' of that spirit which had
developed Unitarianism out of the decaying Puritan Churches."

26 IN MEMORIAM :

that place and presence which I supposed would
meet with dissent, I may say, of dear friends and
benefactors of mine. Yet, as my conviction is per-
fect in the substantial truth of the doctrines of
this discourse, and is not very new, you will see at
once that it must appear very important that it be
spoken ; and I thought I could not pay the noble-
ness of my friends so mean a compliment as to
suppress my opposition to their supposed views,
out of fear of offence. I would rather say to
them — these things look thus to me, to you other-
wise. Let us say our uttermost word, and let the
all-pervading truth, as it surely will, judge between
us. Either of us would, I doubt not, be willingly
apprised of his error. Meantime, I shall be ad-
monished, by this expression of your thought, to
revise with greater care the ' address ' before it is
printed (for the use of the class) ; and I heartily
thank you for this expression of your tried tolera-
tion and love." This was followed by a sermon
against Emerson's views, delivered by Mr. Ware in
the Divinity School, a copy of which was sent to the
former, with a letter, the concluding sentences being
these : — " I confess that I esteem it particularly
unhappy to be thus brought into a sort of public
opposition to you, for I ha\'e a thousand feelings
which draw me toward you ; but my situation.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 27

and the circumstances of the times, render it
unavoidable ; and both you and I understand that
we are to act on the maxim, 'Amicus Plato, amicus
Socrates, sed magis amica Veritas.' (I believe I
quote right.) We would gladly agree with all our
friends ; but that being impossible, and it being
also impossible to choose which of them we will
differ from, we must submit to the common lot of
thinkers, and make up in love of heart what we
want in unity of judgment. But I am growing
prosy, so I break off. — Yours very truly."

To this letter Emerson returned the following
characteristic reply : —

" Concord, Oct. 8, 1S38.

" My dear Sir, — I ought sooner to have acknow-
ledged your kind letter of last week, and the sermon
it accompanied. The letter was right manly and
noble. The sermon, too, I have read with attention.
If it assails any doctrine of mine, — perhaps I am
not so quick to see it as writers generally, — certainly
I did not feel any disposition to depart from my
habitual contentment, that you should say your
thought, whilst I say mine. I believe I must tell
you what I think of my new position. It strikes
me very oddly that good and wise men at Cam-
bridge and Boston should think of raising me into
an object of criticism. I have always been — from

28 /N MEMORIAM :

my very incapacity of methodical writing — a 'char-
tered libertine,' free to worship and free to rail, —
lucky when I could make myself understood, but
never esteemed near enough to the institutions and
mind of society to deserve the notice of the masters
of literature and religion. I have appreciated fully
the advantages of my position, for I well know there
is no scholar less willing or less able than myself
to be a polemic. I could not give an account of
myself, if challenged. I could not possibly give
you one of the 'arguments' you cruelly hint at, on
which any doctrine of mine stands ; for I do not
know what arguments are in reference to any ex-
pression of a thought. I delight in telling what I
think ; but if you ask me how I dare say so, or
why it is so, I am the most helpless of mortal men.
I do not even see that either of these questions
admits of an answer. So that in the present droll
posture of my affairs, when I see myself suddenly
raised to the importance of a heretic, I am very
uneasy when I advert to the supposed duties of
such a personage, who is to make good his thesis
against all comers. I certainly shall do no such
thing. I shall read what you and other good mien
write, as I have always done, glad when you speak
my thoughts,and skipping the page that has nothing
for me. I shall go on just as before, seeing what-

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 29

ever I can, and telling what I see ; and, I suppose,
with the same fortune that has hitherto attended
me, — the joy of finding that my abler and better
brothers, who work with the sympathy of society,
loving and beloved, do now and then unexpectedly
confirm my perceptions, and find my nonsense is
only their own thought in motley, — and so I am
your affectionate servant," &c.

Mr. M. D. Conway, writing about the address in
question, which Theodore Parker pronounced to
be " the noblest, the most inspiring strain I ever
listened to," says, — " Little wonder that the New
England shepherds, watching their flocks by night,
should have been sore afr-aid when this light shone
round about them. But their terror could not
quench the star that had risen. ' It is no use,'
said an eminent divine, when he had heard that the
Faculty had passed a censure on the discourse,
' henceforth the young men will have a fifth gospel
in their Testaments.' Among the young men who
listened was one who went back to his little subur-
ban parsonage, and entered that night in his private
journal these words : — ' In this Emerson surpassed
himself as much as he surpasses others in a general
way. I shall give no abstract, — so beautiful, so
just, and terribly sublime was his picture of the
Church in its present condition. My soul is roused,

30

IN MEMORIAL:

and this week I shall write the long-meditated ser-
mons on the state of the Church and the duties of
these times.' So under the electric touch of Emer-
son, rose the American John Knox — Theodore
Parker."

The " address " became the subject of many-
sermons, pamphlets, and newspaper articles, while
controversies and debates about it rose to a great
height. The effect of all this was, in the words of
Mr. Cooke, " to finally separate Emerson from the
Unitarians, and to cause him to abandon the pulpit.
He saw how strongly the Unitarians were wedded
to the old forms, and he found himself more and
more alienated from them. He could not continue
to preach amidst controversy and objection, so he
quietly withdrew to his work in a manner of his
own." Henceforth he may be considered as having
emancipated himself finally and for ever from the
trammels of creed. Shaking off all traditions of
creed and authority, " I stepped," to use his own
words, " into the free and open world to utter my
private thought to all who were willing to hear it."
Thenceforth he became "the chartered libertine"
of thought, as he sometimes humorously called
himself From this time the lecture platform was
his pulpit. How admirably he filled it during a
period of more than forty years ; — how ennobling

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 31

were his teachings, and how beneficent and far-
reachincf was their influence — the record of his life
and work amply testifies.

About the end of 1836 there originated at
Boston, in the house of the Rev. George Ripley,
one of the most prominent of the Unitarian minis-
ters in that town, a gathering of thoughtful persons
for discussion and mutual inquiry. In this way
gradually came together a number of friends " who
entertained the same ideas, and had common
hopes of a new era of truth and religion " — A. B.
Alcott, Margaret Fuller, R. W. Emerson, George
Ripley, F. H. Hedge, Dr. Channing, Convers Francis,
James Freeman Clarke, J. S. Dwight, Elizabeth
Peabody, W. H. Channing, Dr.C.Follen, C.A.Bartol,
N. L. Frothingham, O. A. Brownson, Theodore
Parker, Jones Very, Caleb Stetson, Charles S.
Wheeler, R. Bartlett, S. J. May, George Bancroft,
and others. Meetings were held four or five times
a year, with very little form, from house to house,
every one contributing something to the conver-
sation. These meetings took place at various
places — Boston, Chelsea, Concord, Milton, Newton,
Watertown. Emerson was almost always present
during the three or four years that the club met
The idea of publishing a quarterly journal was first
discussed at one of the meetings in 1839. The

32 IN MEMORIAM:

title, " The Dial," was suggested by Alcott. No
one was willing to assume the editorship of the
projected periodical. After much solicitation, Mar-
garet Fuller consented to undertake what Emerson
called this "private and friendly service." " Perhaps
no enterprise was undertaken more diffidently by
those interested in it. When it began it concen-
trated a good deal of hope and affection." She
was assisted in the editorship by Mr. George Ripley.
The first number of " The Dial " had a very char-
acteristic address to its readers from Emerson's pen.
The purpose of the magazine was — the most various
expression of the best, the most cultivated, and the
freest thought of the time, — and was addressed to
those only who were able to find " entertainment "
in such literature. " There were no facts for
popularity. Each number was a symposium of
the most accomplished minds in the country ; it
originated in the hopes of the young." Alcott
was only 40, Ripley 38, Emerson 37, Margaret
Fuller, Theodore Parker, W. H. Channing, and J.
Freeman Clarke 30, Bartol, Cranch, and Dwight 27,
Thoreau 23, and W. E. Channing 22. Through
this organ Emerson, Ripley, Theodore Parker,
Henry D. Thoreau (unique among American literary
personalities), J. S. Dwight, W. H. Channing,
Margaret Fuller, C. P. Cranch, J. F. Clarke, F.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. -^i

H. Hedge, J. R. Lowell, Elizabeth Peabody, A. B.
Alcott, W. Ellery Channing, Thomas T. Stone, C.
Lane, C. A. Dana, J. C. Cabot, and others, — all of
them persons of high and varied culture, — gave
utterance to their thoughts. Owing to the state of
her health. Miss Fuller withdrew from the editor-
ship, at the end of the second year, and Emerson
became sole editor. Under his superintendence,
" The Dial " became less literary and more refor-
matory.

In "The Dial" Emerson published " Man the
Reformer," " English Reformers," " The Young
American," " Lectures on the Times " (including
"The Conservative," and "The Transcendenta-
list"), "The Senses and The Soul," "Thoughts on
Modern Literature," " Prayers," " Tantalus," " Car-
lyle's 'Past and Present,'" "Thoughts on Art,"
" Walter Savage Landor," " Europe and European
Books" (including remarks on Wordsworth and
Tennyson, Novels by Buhver, &c.), " The Tragic,"
" The Comic," " Letter to the Readers of ' The Dial ' "
(on Railroads and Air- Roads, Communities, Culture,
The Position of Young Men, Bettina von Arnim,
and Theodore Mandt's Account of Holderlin's
" Hyperion "). Some of these articles have not been
reproduced in any of his collected essays. Many
of his finest poems made their first appearance
D

34

IN MEMORIAM

in this periodical, sometimes anonymously, and
sometimes with his own signature.

In "The Dial," Thoreau was first introduced to
the public. Almost every number contained some
contribution from his pen. To Emerson he owed his
introduction to literature. He wrote The Natural
History of Massachusetts, A Winter Walk, translated
Pindar, and the " Prometheus Bound " of yEschylus,
besides contributing many poems. Elizabeth Pea-
body furnished papers on Christ's Idea of Society,
and The West Roxbury Community, and Mrs.
George Ripley, one on Woman ; H. Tuckerman, a
paper on Music, Mr. J. R. Lowell, three Sonnets, and
Hedge, papers on The Art of Life — The Scholar's
Calling. Ripley criticised Brownson's Writings,
wrote a " Letter to a Theological Student," and
contributed Records of the Month. Parker wrote
on German Literature, the Pharisees, Primitive
Christianity, The Divine Presence in Nature and in
the Soul, Truth against the World, Thoughts on
Theology, A Lesson for the Day, and Thoughts
on Labour. Dwight, the foremost musical critic
of New England, gave accounts of concerts, and
wrote on the Religion of Beauty and Ideals of
Everyday Life. Alcott furnished some Orphic
Sayings and Days from a Diary. C. Lane con-
tributed papers on James Pierrepont Greaves,

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 35

A. B. Alcott's Works, Social Tendencies, A Day
with the Shakers, Brook Farm, Life in the
Woods, and Millennial Church. W. H. Channing
wrote Ernest the Seeker and other papers, and
W. E. Channing contributed many poetical pieces.
Margaret Fuller contributed much from the stores
of her immense reading, and the rich treasures of
her noble thought. Besides numerous pieces of
miscellaneous criticism, she wrote a Short Essay
on Critics, Goethe, the Great Composers, Menzel's
View of Goethe, Canova, Romaic and Rhine Bal-
lads, The Modern Drama (including a long criti-
cism of John Sterling's tragedy, " Strafford"), Bettine
Brentano, Dialogue, Allston's Pictures, Klopstock
and Meta, Festus, and other subjects. The article
on Goethe was alone " enough to establish her fame
as a discerner of spirits." In the last volume
appeared a remarkable article by her, entitled
" The Great Lawsuit ; Man versus Men — Woman
versus Women." It was afterwards enlarged
and published as a volume, " Woman in the
Nineteenth Century," one of the most admirable
works ever written on the opportunities and
duties of women.

The paper called " Notes from the Journal of
a Scholar " was from the pen of Charles Chauncy
Emerson, Ralph Waldo's youngest brother, who

36 IN MEMORIAM:

died in 1836, and is full of subtle power. Edward
B. Emerson's beautiful poem, " The Last Fare-
well," written while sailing out of Boston Harbour,
for the West Indies — a voyage from which he
never returned, — appeared in "The Dial," many
years after his death. In his latest volume of
poems, Ralph Waldo gives " The Last Farewell "
a place, adding some memorial verses to this
" brother of the brief but blazing star, born for the
noblest life." This memorial poem is one of the
best of its kind in the language. Under the head-
ing " Ethnical Scriptures" were given from time to
time selections from the oldest ethical and religious
writings of men, exclusive of the Hebrew and Greek
Scriptures, — the object being " to bring together
the grand expressions of the moral sentiment in
different ages and races, the rules for the guidance
of life, and the bursts of piety and of abandonment
to the Invisible and Eternal." Seven of this series
of selections appeared ; from Veeshnoo Sarma,
The Laws of Menu, Sayings of Confucius, The
Desatir (from the Persian Prophets), The Chinese
Four Books, Hermes Trismegistus, and The Chal-
d^ean Oracles. The magazine existed for four
years — 184 1-4, A complete set of the four volumes
is now an almost unattainable rarity. Even odd
numbers of it fetch a high price. In a recent

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 37

American literary periodical, it has been suggested
that there should be a reprint of these volumes.
An originally subscribed-for copy is in the posses-
sion of the writer of this memoir, which is rendered
unique and very precious by having the authorship
of each article indicated in Emerson's own hand-
writing.

" The Dial," says Mr. Cooke, " was a most
notable effort toward a truer life, and a fresher ex-
pression of thought, and its influence has doubtless
been very great. It is the memorial of an intel-
lectual impulse which the national life of America
has never lost. Emerson has written of it with
sound sense, giving interesting hints of its pur-
pose. He has always spoken of it in a modest
manner, giving to others whatever honour and fame
the quarterly has produced. In fact, he was its
chief contributor, its trusted adviser, from the first ;
and he did far more than any other to give it what-
ever of value and influence it had. ... It was
the first American periodical to assume a character
and aim of its own. ... Its influence was
wholesome and vigorous. It quickened thought,
gave its writers freedom of expression, and greatly
stimulated originality. The school of writers which
it formed and brought before the public has been
the most productive and helpful we have yet seen

38 IN MEMORIAM:

in this country. Such has been the value of this
short-lived quarterly, it already has a fame and
honour quite its own, which are likely to increase in
the future. Emerson thus wrote about it : —

It liail its origin in a club of speculative students, who found
the air in America getting a little too close and stagnant ; and the
agitation had, perhaps, the fault of being too secondary and bookish
in- its origin, or caught, not from primary instincts, but from English,
and still more from German, books. The journal was commenced
with much hope, and liberal promises of many co-operators. But
the workmen of sufficient culture for a poetical and philosophical
magazine were too few ; and as the pages were filled liy unpaid con-
tril)utors, each of whom had, according to the usage and necessity
of this country, some paying employment, the journal did not get
his best work, but his second best. Its scattered writers had not
digested their theories into a distinct dogma, still less into a practical
measure which the public could grasp; and the magazine was so
eclectic and miscellaneous that each of its readers and writers valued
only a small portion of it. For these reasons it never had a large
circulation, and it was discontinued after four years. But " The
Dial" betrayed, through all its juvenility, timidity, and conventional
rulibish, some sparks of the true love and hope, and of the piety to
spiritual law, which had moved its friends and founders ; and it was
received by its early subscribers with almost a religious welcome.
iSIany years after it was brought to a close, Margaret was surprised
in England by very warm testimony to its merits ; and in 1848 the
writer of these pages found it holding the same affectionate place in
many a private book-shelf in England and Scotland which it had
secured at home. Good or bad, it cost a good deal of precious
labour from those who served it, and from Margaret most of all. As
editor, she received a compensation for the first years, which was
intended to be two hundred dollars per annum, but which, I fear,
never reached that amount.

But it made no difference to her exertion. She put so much

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 39

heart into it that she bravely undertook to open, in "The Dial," the
subjects which most attracted her ; and she treated, in turn, Goethe
and Beethoven, the Rhine and the Romaic Ballads, the Poems of
John Sterling, and several pieces of sentiment, with a spirit which
spared no labour; and when the hard conditions of journalism held
her to an inevitable day, she submitted to jeopardizing a long-
cherished subject by treating it in the crude and forced article for
the month. I remember, after she had been compelled by ill-health
to relinquish the journal into my hands, my grateful wonder at
the facility with which she assumed the preparation of laborious
articles that might have daunted the most practiced scribe.

The first series of Emerson's " Essays," to
which Mr. Carlyle contributed a preface, was pub-
lished in 1 84 1. It contained "Self- Reliance," "Com-
pensation," " Spiritual Laws," " Love," " Friend-
ship," "The Over-Soul," and "Intellect." Some
of his very best essays are in this volume, nearly
every one of them rising to the highest level of
his ability as a thinker and worker. He was
here more truly himself than in any other book
he has published, though single essays in the
succeeding volumes reach the height almost con-
stantly maintained in this. Here are a few charac-
teristic sentences from Carlyle's Preface, which was
the first signal recognition of Emerson's genius
and powers by an English writer of high authority.

At the present time it can be predicted, what some years ago it
could not be, that a certain number of human creatures will be found
extant in England to whom the words of a man speaking from the
heart of him, in what fashion soever, under what obstructions soever,

40 IN MEMORIAM:

will l)e welcome ; — welcome, perhaps, as a brother's voice, to
"wanderers in the labyrinthic Night ! " For these, and not for any
other class of persons, is this little book reprinted and recommended.

The name of Ralph Waldo Emerson is not entirely new in England :
distinguished Travellers bring us tidings of such a man ; fractions of
his writings have found their way into the hands of the curious here ;
fitful hints that there is, in New England, some spiritual Notability
called Emerson, glide through Reviews and Magazines. Whether
these hints were true or not true, readers are now to judge for them-
selves a little better,

Emerson's writings and speakings amount to something : — and
yet hitherto, as seems to me, this Emerson is perhaps far less notable
for what he has spoken or done, than for the many things he has not
spoken and has forborne to do. With uncommon interest I have
learned that this, and in such a never-resting locomotive country too,
is one of those rare men who have withal the invaluable talent of
sitting still ! That an educated man of good gifts and opportunities,
after looking at the public arena, and even trying, not with ill success,
what its tasks and its prizes might amount to, should retire for long
years into rustic obscurity ; and, amid the all-pervading jingle of
dollars and loud chaffering of ambitions and promotions, should
quietly, with cheerful deliberateness, sit down to spend Ids life not in
Mammon-worship, or the hunt for reputation, influence, place or any
outward advantage whatsoever : this, when we get notice of it, is a
thing really worth noting.

For myself I have looked over with no common feeling to this
brave Emerson, seated by his rustic hearth, on the other side of the
Ocean (yet not altogether parted from me either), silently communing
with his own soul, and with the God's World it finds itself alive in
yonder. . . . The words of such a man, what words he finds
good to speak, are worth attending to. By degrees a small circle of
living souls eager to hear is gathered. The silence of this man has
to become speech : may this too,- in its due season, prosper for him ! —
Emerson has gone to lecture, various times, to special audiences, in
Boston, and occasionally elsewhere. Three of those Lectures,
already printed, are known to some here ; as is the little Pamphlet,

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 41

called "Nature," of somewhat earlier date. It may be said, a great
meaning lies in these pieces, which as yet finds no adequate expres-
sion for itself.

That this little Book has no "system," and points or stretches far
beyond all systems, is one of its merits. We will call it the soliloquy
of a true soul, alone under the stars, in this day. In England as
elsewhere the voice of a true soul, any voice of such, may be wel-
come to some. . . . That one man more, in the most modern
dialect of this year 1841, recognises the oldest everlasting truths :
here is a thing worth seeing, among the others. One man more
who knows, and believes of very certainty, that Man's Soul is still
alive, that God's Universe is still godlike, that of all Ages of
Miracles ever seen, or dreamt of, by far the most miraculous is this
age in this hour ; and who with all these devout beliefs has dared,
like a valiant man, to bid chimeras, " ^t' chimerical; disappear,
and let us have an end of you ! " — is not this worth something ?

What Emerson's talent is, we will not altogether estimate by this
Book. The utterance is abrupt, fitful ; the great idea not yet
embodied struggles towards an embodiment. Yet everywhere there
is the true heart of a man ; which is the parent of all talent ; which
without much talent cannot exist. A breath as of the green
country, — all the welcomer that it is A'i^w-England country, not
second-hand but first-hand country, — meets us wholesomely every-
where in these Essays : the authentic green Earth is there, with her
mountains, rivers, with her mills and farms. Sharp gleams of
insight arrest us by their pure intellectuality ; here and there, in
heroic rusticism, a tone of modest manfulness, of mild invincibility,
low-voiced but lion-strong, makes us too thrill with a noble pride.
Talent ? Such ideas as dwell in this man, how can they ever speak
themselves with enough of talent ? The talent is not the chief ques-
tion here. The idea, that is the chief question. Of the living acorn
you do not ask first. How large an acorn art thou ? The smallest
living acorn is fit to be the parent of oaktrees without end, — could
clothe all New England with oaktrees by and by. You ask it, first
of all : Art thou a living acorn ? Certain, now, that thou art not a
dead mushroom, as the most are ? — But, on the whole, our Book is

42 IN MEMORIAM:

short ; the Preface should not grow too long. Closing these
questionable parables and intimations, let me in plain English
recommend this little Book as the Book of an original veridical man,
worthy the acquaintance of those who delight in such ; and so :
Welcome to it whom it may concern !

In 1 84 1 he delivered an address at Concord, on
the anniversary of the emancipation of the negroes
in the West Indies. " Man the Reformer," a
lecture, was read before the Mechanics' Appren-
tices' Library Association, at the Masonic Temple,
Boston, 25th January, 1841 ; and "The Method
of Nature," an address to the Society of the
Adelphi, in Waterville College, Maine, on August
nth, 1841. Three addresses, viz., " Lecture on the
Times," "The Conservative," "The Transcenden-
talist," were read at the Masonic Temple, Boston,
in December, 1841. "Man the Reformer," and the
last three addresses on "The Times," were after-
wards printed in " The Dial."

About this time (1841) originated the notable
experiment of the Brook Farm Community, with
which Emerson sympathised, but which he never
joined, although he frequently visited the farm. It
was one of the many movements of the day, point-
ing to a new order of things. To all these move-
ments he gave his sympathy, " in so far as they
expressed a genuine purpose, and showed a candid
desire to make life richer with truth." The social

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 43

and educational reformation of mankind by means
of temperance, the common and normal school,
associated living, and other agencies, was advocated
at conventions of all kinds, and in the press. A
society called "The Friends of Universal Progress"
held conventions in Boston to revitalize the old
church forms and doctrines, and to discuss the
institutions of the Sabbath, the church, and the
ministry. Almost all of Emerson's friends were
connected with these various movements. The
Brook Farm men and women he loved, " and
thoroughly sympathised with their anxious desire
to make life better ; but he saw the folly of their
experiment, and its weaknesses, and he quickly
discovered the evils which it fostered in place of
those it attempted to escape. His sense of humour
was always a restraining and sanitary influence in
his character. He saw the ridiculous, the incon-
gruous side of Brook Farm ; and his humour, his
rare perception of the fitness of things, led him to
see that finely-conceived reform in its real light."
Among those who took a leading part in the
experiment was the Rev. George Ripley. Nathaniel
Hawthorne was one of the first to take up the
scheme, and his published note-books contain
passages of deep interest in connection with it.
In the " Blithedale Romance " his weird pen has

44 IN MEMORIAM:

thrown a halo of imagination, romance, and senti-
ment about Brook Farm ; although he disclaims
any purpose to describe persons or events connected
with it, and expressed a hope that someone might
yet do justice to a movement so full of earnest
aspiration, whose aim was " to simplify economics,
combine leisure for study with healthful and honest
toil, avert unjust collisions of caste, equalise refine-
ments, awaken generous affections, diffuse courtesy,
and sweeten and sanctify life as a whole." Mar-
garet Fuller, "sympathising with the heroism that
prompted the scheme, considered it as premature,
but she gave her friends connected with it the cheer
of her encouragement and the light of her counsel.
She visited them often ; entering genially into their
trials and pleasures, and missing no chance to drop
good seed in every furrow upturned by the plough-
share or softened by the rain." Her intimate friend,
W. H. Channing, said of her in relation to this
movement : — " In the secluded yet intensely ani-
mated circle of those co-workers, I frequently met
her during several succeeding years, and rejoice to
bear witness to the justice, magnanimity, wisdom,
patience, and many-sided good will that governed
her every thought and deed." An account of
the Brook Farm experiment is given by Mr. O. B.
Frothingham in his "Transcendentalism in New

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 45

England," from which some extracts are given
towards the end of this volume. To these the
attention of the reader is specially called, as they
afford a vivid picture of the aims and aspirations of
a circle which included many of Emerson's most
valued friends.

In 1842 he lost a most promising child, called
Waldo. This domestic loss he has bewailed in
his " Threnody," a poem of unequalled tenderness
and beauty, some passages of which vividly express
feelings known only to those who have lost a bright
and precocious child. Margaret Fuller knew this
child, and said of him, " I hoped more from him
than from any living being. I cannot yet reconcile
myself to the thought that the sun shines upon the
grave of the beautiful blue-eyed boy, and that I shall
see him no more. Five years he was an angel to
us, and I know not that any person was ever more
the theme of thought to us. ... I loved him
more than any child I ever knew, as he was of
nature more fair and noble. You would be surprised
to know how dear he was to my imagination." A
few of the opening lines will perhaps induce
readers to become acquainted with the whole poem,
which occupies fourteen pages. In order fully to
appreciate this poem, the reader should know that
the second part, beginning " The deep Heart

46 IN MEMORIAM:

answered, ' Weepest thou ?' " was written three
years after the first.

The South-wind brings

life, sunshine, and desire,

And on every mount and meadow

Breathes aromatic fire ;

But over the dead he has no power,

The lost, the lost, he cannot restore ;

And, looking over the hills, I mourn

The darling who shall not return.

I see my empty house,

I see my trees repair their boughs ;

And he, the wondrous child,

Wh6se silver warble wild

Outvalued every pulsing sound

Within the air's cerulean round, —

The hyacinthine boy, for whom

Morn well might break and April bloom, —

The gracious boy, who did adorn

The world whereinto he was born.

And by his countenance repay

The favour of the loving Day, —

Has disappeared from the Day's eye ;

Far and wide she cannot find him ;

My hopes pursue, they cannot bind him.

Returned this day, the south wind searches,

And finds young pines and budding birches ;

But finds not the budding man ;

Nature, who lost, cannot remake him ;

Fate let him fall, Fate can't retake him ;

Nature, Fate, men, him seek in vain.

A second series of "Essays" appeared in 1844,
the Enghsh edition having a few prefatory words

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 47

by Carlyle. " I will wish the brave Emerson a fair
welcome among us again ; and leave him to speak
with his old friends and to make new." This series
contained nine papers — "The Poet," "Experience,"
"Character," "Manners," "Gifts," "Nature," "Poli-
tics," "Nominalist and Realist," and "New England
Reformers." In the essay " Nature " is incorpo-
rated a piece entitled " Tantalus," which originally
appeared in " The Dial." The last of these papers
was a lecture, read before the Society in Amory
Hall on March 3rd, 1844. " The Young American,"
a lecture read before the Mercantile Library Asso-
ciation, Boston, was delivered February 7th, 1844,
and printed in "The Dial," April, 1844. In 1846,
he published his first volume of Poems. The
London reprint of it in 1847 is disfigured by many
glaring typographical errors. In 1847, he wrote
the " Editor's Address " in the first number of the
" Massachusetts Quarterly Review ;" but did not
contribute any paper to it. He was announced
as one of its editors ; but the originator and real
editor was Theodore Parker. It existed for three
years. The address showed his interest in socialism,
in Swedenborg, and the future of America, and his
general attitude towards the reforms of the time.
In a closing paragraph he says the Review is to
be open especially to those "inspired pages" which

i
48 IN MEMORIAM:

i
come of " inevitable utterances." " We entreat the aid I

of every lover of truth and right, and let principles '

entreat for us. We rely on the talents and industry
of eood men known to us, but much more on the
magnetism of truth, which is multiplying and edu- |

eating advocates for itself and friends for us. We i

rely on the truth for and against ourselves." \

The publication of his two volumes of Essays, I

having stamped Emerson as a thinker of indis- i

putable originality and power, his fame rapidly
increased in this country, and many of his admirers
became desirous that he should visit England, and
deliver courses of lectures, as he had done in the
great towns of his own land. He had now gained
the ear of England, and many of the most thoughtful
minds of both hemispheres had acknowledged his
genius and power. For some time he hesitated,
doubting whether his name would bring together
any numerous company of hearers. Several letters
passed on the subject. At length his hesitancy was
overcome, and permission granted by him to the
writer of this memoir to announce his visit, and
his intention to read lectures to institutions, or to
any gathering of friendly individuals who sym-
pathised with his studies. Applications imme-
diately flowed in from every part of the kingdom,
and in many cases it was found impossible to

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 49

comply with the wishes of the requisition ists, from
a fear of enforcing too much labour on the lecturer.
Had every offer that was made been accepted, his
engagements would have extended over a much
longer period than he was prepared to remain in
England. At last he arrived at Liverpool on 22nd
October, 1847. Carlyle was greatly delighted with
the prospect of again seeing his friendly visitor —
" the lonely, wayfaring man," as he described him —
of 1833. -^ letter from Emerson, announcing the
probable time of his sailing, had, by negligence at a
country post-office, failed to be delivered to Carlyle
in due course, and was not received until near the
time of Emerson's expected arrival, thus depriving
the former of the opportunity of responding with
hospitable messages and invitations. This led to
great trouble of mind in Carlyle, fearing, as he
did, that it might subject him to the appearance
of a want of hospitality — a possibility abhorrent
to his feelings. His trouble was ended, however, by
an arrangement being made to have his reply deli-
vered to Emerson the instant he landed in England,
which, it is needless to say, was faithfully carried
out. His minute instructions and almost solemn
injunctions in regard to this matter were delightfully
characteristic of his high regard for Emerson. The
reader \\\\\ find them in a later page.
E

50 IN MEMORIAM:

For some months he took up his residence in
Manchester, from which, as a centre, he went forth
to lecture in various towns in the midland and
northern counties of England. His first course
was delivered to the members of the Manchester
Athenaeum, the subject being "Representative Men,
including Plato, Swedenborg, Montaigne, Shake-
speare, and Napoleon." His next course was
given in the Manchester Mechanics' Institution,
the subjects being " Eloquence," " Domestic Life,"
" Reading," and "The Superlative in Manners and
Literature." They excited great interest, and
attracted crowded audiences. While in Manches-
ter he delivered a remarkable speech at a soiree,
held under the auspices of the Manchester Athe-
naeum, Sir A. Alison being in the chair. Richard
Cobden and other notabilities were present. His
text was the indomitable " pluck" and steadfastness
and grandeur of England, amid all her difficulties
and trials. At that time English commerce and
industry were in a very depressed condition. This
speech, although comparatively brief, was carefully
prepared for the occasion, and the importance he
attached to it may be gathered from the fact that
he printed it, in extenso, in his " English Traits,"
published nine years after. The speech is given
at the end of this volume. He also visited

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 51

Edinburgh in February, 1848, where he lectured,
and met many of its celebrities, including Robert
Chambers, with whose geniality and kindly humour,
and charming family environment, he was delighted.
While in Edinburgh he was the guest of Dr. Samuel
Brown. He spent two days at Ambleside with
Miss Martineau and again visited Wordsworth —
his first visit having been paid fifteen years before.
A few records of his stay in London, and remarks
on some of the people he met there, will be
found in his " English Traits," one of the most
brilliant and striking books ever written about
England and its characteristics. In perusing this
volume the reader will be charmed by its vigour,
vivacity, and acuteness. There is nowhere in it
any didactic dulness, or commonplace descriptions,
as in many books of this class. In hanging over
its pages, one experiences much the same feelings
as if one were transplanted from a dead-level
country to hilly pastures and wooded ridges,
where the turf is elastic, and the air sharp, keen,
and bracing.

His lectures in London were attended by the
elite of the social and literary world of the metropolis.
Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle, the Duchess of Sutherland,
Lady Byron and her daughter Ada (Lady Lovelace),
the Duke of Argyll, Dr. John Carlyle, William and

52 IN MEMORIAM:

Mary Howitt, Douglas Jcrrold, Mr. John Forster,
Thackeray, and many other distinguished persons
were among his hearers. The writer of this notice
can speak for the breathless attention of his audience,
and the evident all-absorbing interest with which
his discourses were listened to. The course consisted
of six lectures, on " The Minds and Manners of
the Nineteenth Century," " Power and Laws of
Thought," "Relation of Intellect toNatural Science,"
" Tendencies and Duties of Men of Thought,"
" Politics and Socialism," " Poetry and Eloquence,"
and " Natural Aristocracy." It was a remarkable
course. Only one or two of these lectures have
been printed. Not a few of his aristocratic au-
dience must have winced under some of his keen
and searching reminders of duty. He uttered his
convictions with a daring independence, and gave
his judgments with a decisiveness of tone and
earnest solemnity of manner which might have
put kings in fear. He made his audience feel as if
he had got them well in hand, and did not mean
to let them go without giving them his "mind."
It was as if he had said (to use his own words, on
another occasion) : — " This you must accept as
fated, and final for your salvation. It is mankind's
Bill of Rights, the royal proclamation of Intellect,
descending the throne, and announcing its good

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. S3

pleasure, that, hereafter, as heretofore, and now once
for all, this world shall be governed by common
sense and law of morals, or shall go to ruin."
During the delivery of this course a letter appeared
in the London Examiner, urging a repetition of it
at a price sufficiently low to admit of poor literary
men hearing Emerson. " This might be done by
fixing some small admission charge, commensurate
with the means of poets, critics, philosophers, his-
torians, scholars, and the other divine paupers of
that class. I feel that it ought to be done, because
Emerson is a phenomenon whose like is not in the
world, and to miss him is to lose an important,
informing fact, out of the nineteenth century. If,
therefore, you will insert this, the favour will at all
events have been asked, and one conscience satis-
fied. It seems also probable that a very large
attendance of thoughtful men would be secured,
and that Emerson's stirrup-cup would be a cheer-
ing and full one, sweet and ruddy with international
charity."

Three lectures were also given at Exeter Hall :
"Napoleon," " Shakespeare," and " Domestic Life."
At their conclusion Mr. Monckton Milnes (now
Lord Houghton) made a speech complimentary to
the lecturer, and to which the latter replied.

The first impression one had in listening to

54 IN MEMORIAM:

him in public was that his manner was so singularly
quiet and unimpassioned that you began to fear
the beauty and force of his thoughts were about to
be marred by what might almost be described as
monotony of expression. But very soon was this
apprehension dispelled. The mingled dignity,
sweetness, and strength of his features, the earnest-
ness of his manner and voice, and the evident depth
and sincerity of his convictions gradually extorted
your deepest attention, and made you feel that you
were within the grip of no ordinary man, but of
one "sprung of earth's first blood," with "titles mani-
fold ;" and as he went on with serene self-posses-
sion and an air of conscious power, reading sentence
after sentence, charged with well-weighed meaning,
and set in words of faultless aptitude, you could
no longer withstand his "so potent spell," but were
forthwith compelled to surrender yourself to the
fascination of his eloquence. He used little or no
action, save occasionally a slight vibration of the
body, as though rocking beneath the hand of some
unseen power. The precious words dropped from
his mouth in quick succession, and noiselessly sank
into the hearts of his hearers, there to abide for
ever, and, like the famed carbuncle in Eastern
cave, shed a mild radiance on all things therein.
Perhaps no orator ever succeeded with so little

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 55

exertion in entrancing his audience, stealing away
each faculty, and leading the listeners captive at
his will. He abjured all force and excitement —
dispensing his regal sentences in all mildness, good-
ness, and truth ; but stealthily and surely he grew
upon you, from the smallest proportions, as it were;
steadily increasing, until he became a Titan, a
commanding power —

To whom, as to the mountains and the stars,
The soul seems passive and submiss.

The moment he finished, he took up his MS. and
quietly glided away, — disappearing before his audi-
ence could give vent to their applause.

The French Revolution of 1848 happening while
he w^as in this country, he went over to Paris in
the spring of that year, and was present at several
meetings of the political clubs, which were then in
a state of fullest activity. He was accompanied by
Mr. W. E. Forster (the late Chief Secretary for
Ireland). In Paris he made the acquaintance of
the late Mr. James Oswald Murray, then resident
in that city. Mr. Murray, who was an artist, made
a crayon sketch of Emerson, which is in the pos-
session of the present writer. It brings him, as he
then was, very vividly before the mind's eye. This
likeness has not been reproduced. His observa-
tions made during that visit were embodied in a

56 IN MEMORIAM:

brilliant lecture on the French, which he delivered
after his return to America, but which has never
been published. Before sailing for America, in
the summer of 1848, he spent a night in Man-
chester with the present writer, and had much to
say of all he had seen and met. He overflowed
with pleasant recollections of his visit, and spoke
in the warmest terms of the kindness and con-
sideration which he had everywhere experienced.
He said he had not been aware there was so
much kindness in the world. Would that some
unseen but swift pen could have recorded all he
said in these last rapidly-flying hours ! Speak-
ing of Carlyle, he repeated the words used in a
letter written some months before: "The guiding
genius of the man, and what constitutes his supe-
riority over almost every other man of letters, is
his commanding sense of justice, and incessant
demand for sincerity." He spoke of De Quincey
and Leigh Hunt as having the finest manners of
any literary men he had ever met. His visit to
Leigh Hunt is described in the " Recollections "
which follow this memoir.

On the Sunday before he sailed for America,
a large number of his friends and admirers from
all parts of the country were invited to meet him
at the hospitable mansion of Mr. and Mrs. Paulet

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 57

(both since dead), near Liverpool whose guest
he was. Among other notable persons gathered
together on that occasion to spend a few hours in
his company, and to listen to his rich experiences
and recollections, was Arthur Hugh Clough, fpr
whom Emerson had a most tender regard. In the
following year the former met Margaret Fuller in
Rome. He had become known to a select circle
of scholars by his poem, "The Bothie of Tober-Na-
Vuolich," which Kingsley eulogised, and Oxford
pronounced " indecent, immoral, profane, and com-
munistic." Mr. Emerson esteemed the poem highly,
and was the means of procuring its re-publication
in America. In a private letter, dated December
8th, 1862, he says: "I grieve that the good Clough,
the generous and susceptible scholar, should die. I
have read over his ' Bothie ' again, so full of the
wine of youth." In the autumn of 1852 Clough
went to America, by Emerson's invitation, voyaging
thither in company with Thackeray and Lowell.
He settled at Cambridge, Massachusetts, where
he was welcomed with remarkable cordiality, and
formed many friendships which lasted to the end
of his life. While in America he contributed
several articles to the reviews and magazines, and
undertook a revision of the translation, known as
Dryden's, of Plutarch's "Lives" for an American

58 IN MEMORIAM:

publisher, which appeared in five volumes. In
the following year he returned to England. He
died at Florence in 1861, in his 43rd year.

" Representative Men," seven lectures, was pub-
lished in 1850, the subjects being Uses of Great
Men ; Plato, or, The Philosopher ; Plato, New Read-
ings ; Swedenborg, or, The Mystic ; Montaigne, or,
The Sceptic; Shakespeare, or. The Poet ; Napoleon,
or, The Man of the World ; Goethe, or. The Writer.
The " Essay on War," a lecture delivered in Boston,
in March, 1838, was published in 1850, in Miss
Elizabeth Peabody's "Esthetic Papers." In 1852,
in conjunction with W. H. Channing and J.
Freeman Clarke, he wrote " Memoirs of Margaret
Fuller," his contribution to the work being the
chapters on her life while resident in Concord
and Boston, and her wonderful powers of conversa-
tion. When Kossuth visited the United States in
1852 he went to Concord, where Emerson welcomed
him. There was a procession, a review, and
speeches in the town hall, the address of the
occasion being made by Emerson. A lecture on
The Anglo-American Race was given by him in
New York in 1855. In 1856 he lectured in Boston
on English Civilisation, France, Signs of the Times,
Beauty, The Poets, The Scholar. In the same year
he delivered an address before the Woman's Rights

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 59

Convention. " The aspiration of this century will
be the code of the next," was one of his utterances
on this subject. In 1863, when a Woman's Journal
was proposed to be published in Boston, he wrote
for it a short essay defining his position on this
subject. The journal was not started, and the
essay remained unprinted until it appeared in
"The Woman's Journal" of March 26th, 1881.
In 1856 he published" English Traits," a record
of his impressions of England, already referred
to, p. 16.

In January, 1855, he gave one of a course of
anti-slavery lectures at Tremont Temple, Boston.
" It was a strong and forcible address, full of fire,
alive with magnetic power, plain and simple in
style, and was listened to throughout with breath-
less interest. He charged the prevalent indifference
to the wrongs of the slave to scepticism concerning
great human duties and concerns." In the same
year he delivered an address before the Anti-
Slavery Society of New York, in which he declared
that " an immoral law is void." Under the title of
" Echoes of Harper's Ferry," he published in i860
three speeches concerning John Brown, which he
had delivered at Boston in 1859, at Concord later
in the same year, and at Salem in i860. In 1856,
when Charles Sumner was assaulted by Brooks, a

6o IN MEMORIAM:

mectinc^ of sympathy was held in Concord, and
Emerson spoke with warm appreciation of the
services of that senator.

At no time was he a leader in the actual
battle against slavery, but as time went on and
the struggle increased in intensity, his spoken
word and pen became more and more con-
spicuous and powerful. In January, 1861, he
made a speech at the annual meeting of the
Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in Boston.
The speakers were often disturbed by a mob, and
it was with great difficulty they could be heard.
Emerson was frequently interrupted by hisses and
other demonstrations of disapproval. He said that
"slavery is based on a crime of that fatal character
that it decomposes men. The barbarism which
has lately appeared wherever that question has
been touched, and in the action of the States where
it prevails, seems to stupefy the moral sense. The
moral injury of slavery is infinitely greater than its
pecuniary and political injury. I really do not
think the pecuniary mischief of slavery, which is
always shown by statistics, worthy to be named in
comparison with this power to subvert the reason
of men ; so that those who speak of it, who defend
it, who act in its behalf, seem to have lost the
moral sense." In speaking of the threatened seces-

KALPH WALDO EMERSON. 6i

sion, he used these emphatic words, appropriate for
the hour and occasion : —

In the great action now pending, all the forbearance, all the dis-
cretion possible, and yet all the firmness will be used by the repre-
sentatives of the North, and by the people at home. No man of
patriotism, no man of natural sentiment, can undervalue the sacred
Union which we possess ; but if it is sundered, it will be because it
had already ceased to have a vital tension. The action of to-day
is only the ultimatum of what had already occurred. The bonds
had ceased to exist, because of this vital defect of slavery at the
South, actually separating them in sympathy, in thought, in char-
acter, from the people of the North ; and then, if the separation
had gone thus far, what is the use of a pretended tie ? As to con-
cessions, we have none to make. The monstrous concession made
at the formation of the Constitution is all that ever can be asked ;
it has blocked the civilisation and humanity of the times to this day.

He received an invitation to give an anti-slavery
lecture at Washington. This he delivered in Feb-
ruary, 1862, to a very large audience. President
Lincoln, his cabinet, and the leading officials in the
capital were present. Next day Seward introduced
Lincoln to Emerson, and they had a long con-
ference on slavery. The lecture had deeply im-
pressed the President. The effect produced by the
lecturer on his audience was described as most
powerful, and it was listened to with unbounded
enthusiasm. Those who had often heard Emerson
considered it as one of his greatest and best efforts,
and that he seemed inspired throughout its
delivery. The lecture was printed in the "Atlantic

62 JN MEMORIAM:

Monthly," April, 1862. A meeting was held in
Boston immediately after the President's procla-
mation came out, on September 22nd, 1862, at
which Emerson spoke of Lincoln's difficulties, and
the wisdom which characterised his action. The
speech was given in the " Atlantic Monthly,"
November, 1 862. Mr. Cooke thus speaks of it : —
*' It was a clear, strong, earnest address, full of
sympathy for the blacks, and grandly true to the
highest moral convictions. There were no con-
ceits of language in it, but a plain directness and
a simple power that were full of charm. It is
well to recall these addresses, that we may so much
the more clearly understand how practical and
human is Emerson's genius. On these occasions
he came directly to the subject in hand, uttered not
a word but of the highest wisdom, and proclaimed
in majestic words that moral law which is written
in the nature of things." After the proclamation
had been carried into effect, and emancipation
became a fact, a great meeting of rejoicing was
held in Boston. At this meeting Emerson read
his " Boston Hymn." Not long after he pub-
lished his "Voluntaries," celebrating the victories
of Liberty. In April, 1865, a meeting took place
at Concord, to express the universal grief felt on
account of Lincoln's death. On this occasion he

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 63

delivered an address, giving full expression to his
thoughts about the war, the victory of the North,
and his love of Lincoln. This fine oration is given
in extenso at p. 152 of Mr. Cooke's book.

In 1859 he lectured on Morals, Conversation,
Culture, Domestic Life, Natural Religion, The
Law of Success, Originality, Criticism, Clubs, and
Manners. In a publication called "The Dial, a
Monthly Magazine for Literature, Philosophy, and
Religion," started in i860 by his young friend, M.
D. Conway, in Cincinnati, Ohio, were first printed
The Sacred Dance from the Persian, Twelve
Quatrains, and the Essay on Domestic Life, pre-
viously delivered as a lecture, and which subse-
quently took its place as one of the essays in the
volume entitled "Society and Solitude;" and by
his permission was printed in the same periodical
the Address on West Indian Emancipation, de-
livered in Concord in 1844.

In i860, he lost his friend Theodore Parker,
and in 1862, H. D. Thoreau. To the former he
paid a noble tribute at a public meeting, closing
with these words : — " His sudden and singular
eminence, the importance of his name and influence,
are the verdict of his country to his virtues. We
have few such men to lose ; amiable and blameless
at home ; feared abroad as the standard-bearer of

64 IN MEMORIAM:

liberty ; taking all the duties he could grasp ; and,
more, refusing to spare himself. He has gone down
in early glory to his grave, to be a living and
enlarging power, wherever learning, wit, honest
valour, and independence are honoured." At Tho-
reau's funeral he spoke about his rare genius — " a
man made for the noblest society : he had in a
short life exhausted the capabilities of this world :
wherever there is knowledge, wherever there is
virtue, wherever there is beauty, he will find a
home." This address appeared in the "Atlantic
Monthly," August, 1862. He assisted in editing
Thoreau's Letters in 1865, and in preparing several
other volumes from his manuscripts. Parker's con-
gregation, after his death, asked Emerson to give
them a sermon in Music Hall, which he was reluc-
tant to do, " as he could no longer preach in the
ordinary sense, and as he had long before aban-
doned all thought of ever preaching again. He
was urged so strongly, however, that at last he con-
sented. He said he was glad that Parker had made
the place one of freedom ; that he had valued religion
more than its forms. During several years he
frequently appeared before the society — often on
Sundays — giving lectures for the Parker fraternity."
One of his sermons in Music Hall has been reported
by Mr. M. D. Conway in " Eraser's Magazine," May,

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 65

1867, who says it was " the most impressive utter-
ance he ever heard from Emerson. It produced
an effect on those who heard it beyond anything
that I ever witnessed, many being moved at times
to tears. I went with pencil and paper, intending
to take down as much as I could, but at the end
of the hour occupied by it, the paper remained
blank, and the pencil had been forgotten. I can,
therefore, only produce the record of my impressions
of it, as they were written down the same day."

" The Conduct of Life" w^as published in i860.
The nine Essays of which it consists had mostly
been delivered as lectures during the previous half-
dozen years. Their titles are — Fate, Power, Wealth,
Culture, Behaviour, Worship, Considerations by the
Way, Beauty, and Illusions. The first, sixth, seventh,
and last of these w^ere considered to be among his
best efforts. While his previous books had sold
slowly, this one w^ent off rapidly — 2,500 copies of it
being disposed of within two days after its publica-
tion. In July, 1 86 1 , he gave an address before one of
the societies of Tuft's College, the subject being the
duties and attitude of students. In 1863 he wrote
the " Biographical Sketch " preceding H. D. Tho-
reau's " Excursions," extending to thirty-three pages,
and in 1864, an " Introductory Essay on Persian
Poetry," prefixed to the " Gulistan " of Saadi, and
F

66 AV MEMORIAM:

afterwards printed in the "Atlantic Monthly," July,
1864. In November, 1864, he gave a course of
Sunday Lectures before the Parker fraternity on
"American Life" — the subjects being Public and
Private Education, Social Aims, Resources, Table-
Talk, Books, Character. Three of these lectures
were reprinted — Books, in the volume entitled
" Society and Solitude," and Social Aims and
Resources, in a later volume called " Letters and
Social Aims." The essay on Character was printed
in the " North American Review" for 1866. In 1865,
he spoke at "Commencement" Festival at Har-
vard, and lectured on Literature before one of the
Amherst societies. In 1866, he gave a course of
lectures at Boston on " Philosophy for the People ;"
the subjects being Intellect, Instinct, Perception,
Talent, Genius, Imagination, Taste, Laws of the
Mind, Conduct of the Intellect, and Relation of
Intellect to Morals. During the winter of the
same year, he gave lectures on The Man of the
World, Eloquence, Immortality, and an address on
the reception of the Chinese Embassy. He said
in the course of one of these lectures that John
Brown gave at Charlestown the best speech made
in the nineteenth century, and that Daniel Webster
and Father Taylor were the only two men who had
reached his ideal of oratory.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 67

"May-day and other Poems" made its appear-
ance in 1867. Many of the smaller pieces had
appeared before in the "Atlantic Monthly." "The
Rule of Life" was the subject of a lecture delivered
to the Parker Fraternity in 1867. In the same
year he attended the meeting for the organisation
of the " Free Religious Association." The per-
sons taking a lead in this movement had been
largely influenced by his writings and lectures. " To
study religion as a universal sentiment, to find
the sources of its world-wide manifestation in man,
to regard all its forms as expressions of the same
fundamental principles — these objects of the new
association had been for many years among his
most cherished ideas." He delivered an address
on the occasion, in which he said, " We are all very
sensible — it is forced on us everyday — of the feeling
that the churches are outgrown, that the creeds
are outgrown, that a technical theology no longer
suits us. . . . The church is not large enough
for the man. . . , The child, the young student,
finds scope in his mathematics and chemistry, or
natural history, because he finds a truth larger than
he is — finds himself continually instructed. But in
the churches every healthy and thoughtful mind
finds itself in something less ; it is checked, cribbed,
confined ; and the statistics of the American, the

68 IN MEMORIAM:

English, and the German cities, showing that the
mass of the population is leaving off going to church,
indicate the necessity which should have been fore-
seen, that the church should always be new and
extemporized, because it is eternal, and springs
from the sentiment of men, or it does not exist."

In July, 1867, he was made an Overseer of Har-
vard University, and received the honorary degree
of LL.D. At this time he gave his Phi-Beta-Kappa
address on " The Progress of Culture," afterwards
published in " Letters and Social Aims." Public
opinion had at last come round to him, and his
startling and — to the conservative element at
Harvard — obnoxious and heretical Divinity-School
address of 1838 was at length condoned, and the
University " did herself the honour to forget his
heresies, and accord to the great thinker a just recog-
nition. It was a triumph on his part, nobly won and
richly deserved. His critics had become his ad-
mirers, his heresies were forgotten ; his genius, his
rare merits, his pure and noble life only were remem-
bered." His address was full of hope and courage,
and richly suggestive with those great ideas he had
preached for so many years. It was a strong plea
for the truest culture, as the great promise of the
American people. His concluding sentences were :
*' When I look around me, and consider the sound

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 69

material of which the cultivated class here is made
up — what high personal worth, what love of men,
what hope, is joined with rich information and
practical power, and that the most distinguished by-
genius and culture are in this class of benefactors —
I can not distrust this great knighthood of virtue, or
doubt that the interests of science, of letters, of
politics and humanity, are safe. I think these
bands are strong enough to hold up the Republic.
I read the promise of better times and of greater
use."

" Society and Solitude," a volume containing
twelve essays, was given to the public in 1870.
The essays are — Society and Solitude, Civilization,
Art, Eloquence, Domestic Life, Farming, Work
and Days, Books, Clubs, Courage, Success, Old
Age. Many of these papers had been long before
given as lectures. The one on Art was printed in
"The Dial," and that on Farming had been delivered
in Concord in 1858. The papers on Books and
Domestic Life had been delivered as lectures in
England in 1847-8, and those on Society and
Solitude and Old Age had appeared in early
volumes of the "Atlantic Monthly," while the
one on Civilization was a portion of the Wash-
ington Address of 1862. Colonel Higginson,
an accomplished American author, said of these

70 IN MEMORIAM:

essays that there was in them "a greater variety
and a more distinct organic Hfe than in the earlier
ones, while they are no less finished and scarcely
less concentrated. It is not enough to say that
such papers as these constitute the high-water
mark of American literature ; it is not too much to
say that they are unequalled in the literature of
the age. Name, if one can, the Englishman or the
Frenchman who, on themes like these, must not
own himself second to Emerson."

In the spring of 187 1 he visited California with
a party of friends, and delivered some lectures while
there. In the autumn of the same year he gave an
address before the Massachusetts Historical Society
on the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Walter
Scott. The address will be found at the end of
this volume. In the same year he gave six lectures
and readings in Mechanics' Hall. " The first was
on literature. In the last he spoke of the effects of
culture on the soul, and its influence on the forma-
tion of ideas about life and destiny." The " Boston
Journal " thus spoke of these lectures : —

The same consummate magnetism lingers around and upon
every phrase ; there is the same thrilling earnestness of antithesis,
the same delight and brooding over poetry and excellence of ex-
pression, as of old. There is no other man in America who can,
by the mere force of what he says, enthrall and dominate an
audience. Breathless attention is given, although now and then

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 71

his voice falls away so that those seated farthest off have to strain
every nerve to catch the words. The grand condensation, the
unfaltering and almost cynical brevity of expression, are at first
startling and vexatious ; but presently one yields to the charm, and
finds his mind in the proper assenting mood. The loving tender-
ness with which Emerson lingers over a fine and thoroughly
expressive phrase is beyond description. It thrills the whole audi-
ence ; arrests universal attention. The sacredness of the printed
page is interpreted in a new and universal light. There is the
same passionate adoration displayed over a fine line from a sonnet,
or lavished upon one of Thoreau's quaint conceits, which Ingres
bestowed upon a specimen of pure drawing. The innate and
inexhaustible love of beauty, softening and permeating every utter-
ance, infusing its delicate glow and its delicious harmony into each
idea, and investing abstractions with the charms of real and vivid
beings, triumphs over age and diffidence, gives to the austere and
unworldly philosopher the bloom and enthusiasm of the lover and
the poet.

In 1 87 1 he wrote an introduction to Goodwin's
translation of Plutarch's " Morals," in which he
gave an account of the works of that author. In
January, 1872, while in Washington, he visited
Howard University, and spoke extemporaneously
to the coloured students on books as a means of
education, on the choice of a profession, and other
kindred topics.

In 1872 he again visited Europe, accompanied
by his daughter, arriving in November, After
a short stay in London, they proceeded to Egypt,
spending some time there, returning in the spring
of 1873 to England, I'ia Italy and France. During

72 IN MEMORIAM:

this visit he did not deliver any lectures. He
resided for some weeks in London, and visited
Professor Max Miiller at Oxford. He spent a
single day (8th May) in Edinburgh, his main object
being to sec Dr. J. Hutchison Stirling, author of
" The Secret of Hegel." His two last days were
spent under the roof of the writer of this memoir,
and many of his old acquaintances and hearers
of 1847-8 had thus an opportunity of meeting him.
Mr. George W. Smalley, the able London corre-
spondent of " The New York Tribune," writing
about Emerson's last visit to England, said : — " I
know no American, — indeed, there can be no other,
who has in England a company of such friends and
disciples as those who gather about Mr. Emerson ;
no one for whom so many rare men and women
have a reverence so affectionate ; no one who holds
to the best section of English students, and of her
most religious and cultivated minds, a relation so
delightful to both. The incomparable charm of
his manner and of his conversation remains what
it always was, and marked always by the same
sweetness, the same delicacy, mingled with the
same penetration and force."

Previously to this, his last visit to Europe, his
house at Concord was accidentally destroyed by
fire. Fortunately, none of his books or manu-

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 73

scripts were injured. During his absence in
Europe it was rebuilt. When he returned home
in May, 1873, ^^ '^^^s received with the greatest
enthusiasm by his fellow-townsmen — the crowd
accompanying him from the railway station to the
newly-built house, which was an exact counterpart
of the old home. A letter from one of his own
family, written at the time, records that the citizens
gathered at the railway terminus in crowds, and
the school children were drawn up in two smiling
rows, through which he passed, greeted by enthu-
siastic cheers and songs of welcome. All followed
his carriage to the house, and sang " Home, sweet
Home " to the music of the band. A few days
afterwards, he invited all his townsmen and towns-
women to call and see him in his restored home,
and a large number of them availed themselves of
the opportunity.

In October, 1873, he gave the "Dedication
Address " in connection with a new Free Library
in Concord, the gift of an enlightened citizen of the
town. His subject was the uses and value of books
and libraries, and in the course of his address he
spoke of Thoreau and Hawthorne. At Faneuil
Hall, December i6th, 1873, he read a poem on the
centennial anniversary of the destruction of tea in
Boston harbour. He read the poem a second time

74 IN MEMORIAM :

on the last day of the year before the Radical
Club. At this meeting a reception was given him,
at which many of his friends were present. His
manner was described as " so gentle, that he seemed
only reading to one person, and yet his voice v/as
so distinct that it filled the room in its lowest
tones."

In 1874 he was put in nomination for the
Lord Rectorship of Glasgow University. Emerson
received 500 votes, against 700 for Disraeli, who
was elected. In a letter addressed to Dr. J.
Hutchison Stirling, the honorary president in con-
nection with the movement, he said : — " I count
that vote as quite the fairest laurel that has ever
fallen on me. Probably I have never seen one of
these 500 young men ; and thus they show us that
our recorded . thoughts give the means of reaching
those who think with us in other countries, and
make closer alliances, sometimes, than life-long
neighbourhood."

In 1875 appeared "Parnassus, a Selection of
British and American Poetry, with prefatory
remarks," of which it may be truly said that it is
the best collection of English Poetry ever pub-
lished. The only defect in the volume is the
much-to-be-regretted absence of a few specimens of
his own poems — attributable to Emerson's charac-

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 75

teristic modesty. Any other selector — had he
been a poet — would, hi all probability, have given
some specimens of his own verses ; e.g.^ in a
recent volume of " Selections of English Poetry,"
published in London, the editor obligingly presents
the reader with eleven passages from Shakespeare,
seven from Milton, and tlih'teen from his own works!
Some of the selections in " Parnassus " have been
inserted for their historical importance ; some for
their weight of sense ; some for single couplets or
lines, perhaps even for a word ; some for magic
of style ; and others which — although in their
structure betraying a defect of poetic ear — have
nevertheless a wealth of truth which ought to have
created melody. The arrangement is not chrono-
logical, but based upon the character of the subject,
under the following heads : — Nature ; Human Life ;
Intellectual ; Contemplative, Moral and Religious;
Heroic ; Portraits ; Narrative Poems and Ballads ;
Songs ; Dirges and Pathetic Poems ; Comic and
Humorous ; Poetry of Terror, and Oracles and
Counsels. An index of authors, prefixed, with
dates of birth and death, is a useful guide in many
instances, especially as regards the period of the
writings. It does not appear that the merits of
an author's acknowledged — or perhaps we should
say recognised — position had had much to do

76 IN MEMORIAM:

with the copiousness of the extracts. In his preface
he erroneously attributes to Landor a remark on
Wordsworth's beautiful poem, " Laodamia," which
was really made by another critic : — " It is a poem
that might be read aloud in Elysium, and the spirits
of departed heroes and sages would gather round
to listen to it." Tbe sentence occurs in " The
Spirit of the Age ; or Contemporary Portraits," by
William Hazlitt.

On 19th April, 1875, Emerson delivered a brief
address on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary
of the Concord fight. " May-day and other Poems,"
being a second volume of Poems, was published in
1874; "Letters and Social Aims," containing
eleven essays — Poetry and Imagination, Social
Aims, Eloquence, Resources, The Comic, Quota-
tion and Originality, Progress of Culture, Persian
Poetry, Inspiration, Greatness, and Immortality —
appeared in 1876. Some of these essays are
equal to any that he has written — notably " The
Progress of Culture," and "Immortality." Most of
the others had been given as lectures between i860
and 1 870. " Fortune of the Republic " was the title
of a lecture delivered at the Old South Church, Bos-
ton, March 30, 1878, afterwards published in a thin
volume. In the same year and in the same place
he gave a lecture on "The Superlative;" in 1879

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. -jj

one on " Memory," before the Concord School of
Philosophy ; another in Cambridge, on " Elo-
quence;" and one before the Harvard Divinity
School on " The Preacher." This was printed in
the " Unitarian Review" (1880). In 1880 he gave
his hundredth lecture before the Concord Lyceum,
on " New England Life and . Letters ; " and before
the School of Philosophy, " Natural Aristocracy."
In the autumn he read an essay before the members
of the Divinity School, and early in 1881 he read
a paper on " Carlyle " (written in 1848) before the
Massachusetts Historical Society.

In the " North American Review " will be found
the following prose essays and articles : — Michael
Angelo, Milton, Character, Demonology, Perpetual
Forces, The Sovereignty of Ethics, In the "Atlantic
Monthly" appeared, between 1858 and 1876, the
following articles and poems: — The Rommany Girl,
The Chartist's Complaint, Days, Brahma, Illusions,
Solitude and Society, Two Rivers, Books, Persian
Poetry, Eloqtietice, Waldeinsamkeit, Song of
Nature, CiUtiire, The Test, Old Age, The Titmouse,
American Civilization, Compensation, Tkoreaii,
The President's Proclamation, Boston Hymn,
Voluntaries, Saadi, My Garden, Boston, Terminus,
Progress of Culture (Phi-Beta-Kappa Address,.
Harv. Univ., 1867). The prose articles are indicated

78 IN AIEMORIAM:

by being printed in italics. It has been already
mentioned that several of the above pieces have
been included in successive volumes of his col-
lected essays.

At the end of this volume the reader will find a
list of the articles on Emerson and his writings
which have appeared in the magazines and reviews
of Great Britain and the United States, as well as
indications of what has been written about him in
France, Germany, and Holland.

Any sketch of the life and environment of
Emerson, however brief, would be incomplete if it
did not include some reference to that remarkable
woman, Margaret Fuller, and to the influence which
she exercised on the best men and women with
whom she came in contact. The friendship which
subsisted between her and Emerson was only ter-
minated by her untimely death. Returning from
Europe with her husband (Count D'Ossoli) and
child, the vessel in which they sailed was wrecked
on 1 6th June, 1850, within sight of her own New
England shores — indeed, quite close to the beach.
For twelve agonising hours they were face to face
with death. She refused an attempt made by four
of the crew to save her, lest she might have been
parted from those dearest to her. She bravely
preferred certain death to the chances of a life-long

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 79

separation. To perish with them were better than
to live without them. The terrible story has been
told with intense power and sympathy by her friend,
Mr. W. H. Channing, in that portion of her " Me-
moirs" written by him. A more thrilling narrative
has never been written.

Of this woman of true genius and extraordinary
acquirements, and whose conversation was of un-
rivalled fluency, power, and brilliancy, ample records
remain. As a biography, giving the inward and
outward life of a woman of the highest culture, and
endowed with rare gifts of soul, her " Memoirs "
written by Mr. Emerson, Mr. J. Freeman Clarke, and
Mr. W. H. Channing, are of the deepest interest.
They knew her intimately, and have performed
their task with loving admiration and sympathy, and
" with extraordinary frankness, courage, and deli-
cacy." She was a good Greek, Latin, and Hebrew
scholar, was well read in French, Italian, and Ger-
man literature, and had studied ancient and modern
Art carefully and diligently. She had a singular
power of communicating her literary enthusiasm to
her companions. She has left behind her several
volumes containing the best of her literary work. It
has been said of her that "she was plain in appear-
ance, and that she had a faculty of unsheathing
herself at the touch of a thought ; and those who

8o IN ME MORI AM:

came into right relations with her remember her as
almost beautiful. Her natural place was at the
centre of a circle where thoughts and truths were
being discovered, and which had not yet found
their channels in literature. With the finest
womanly sympathies she combined the strong
masculine intellect, and an individuality which
stimulated every other individuality. Her influence
was great in the intellectual activities of her day."
At first, Emerson reluctantly made her acquain-
tance, and for a time they were not much drawn to
each other. She said he was not fully responsive
to her outbursts of sentiment, and was cold and
unapproachable ; while he found in her too much
of the sybil. Afterwards, however, " she became,"
to use his own words, " an established friend and
frequent inmate of our house, and continued thence- •
forward for years to come once in three or four
months to spend a week or a fortnight with us.
She adopted all the people and all the interests she
found here. ' Your people shall be my people, and
yonder darling boy I shall cherish as my own.'
Her ready sympathies endeared her to my wife
and my mother, each of whom highly esteemed
her good sense and sincerity. She was an active,
inspiring companion and correspondent ; and all
the art, the thought, and the nobleness in New

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 8l

England seemed at that moment related to her,
and she to it. She was everywhere a welcome
guest. The houses of her friends in town and
country were open to her, and every hospitable
attention eagerly offered. Her arrival was a holi-
day, and so was her abode. She stayed a few
days, often a week, more seldom a month ; and all
tasks that could be suspended were put aside to
catch the favourable hour, in walking, riding, or
boating, to talk with this joyful guest, who brought
wit, anecdotes, love-stories, tragedies, oracles with
her, and, with her broad web of relations to so many
friends, seemed like the queen of some parliament
of love, who carried the key to all confidences, and
to whom every question had been finally referred.
. . . The day was never long enough to exhaust
her opulent memory ; and I, who knew her inti-
mately for ten years, never saw her without surprise
at her new powers. . . . Her talents were so
various, and her conversation so rich and enter-
taining, that one might talk with her many times,
by the parlour fire, before he discovered the
strength which served as foundation to so much
accomplishment and eloquence. ... In the
evening she would come to the library, and many
and many a conversation was there held, whose de-
tails, if they could be preserved, would justify all
G

82 ■ IN MEMORIAM:

encomiums. They interested me in every manner; —
talent, memory, wit, stern introspection, poetic play,
religion, the finest personal feeling, the aspects of
the future, — each followed each in full activity, and
left me, I remember, enriched and sometimes
astonished by the gifts of my guest. Her topics
were numerous, but the cardinal points of poetry,
love, and religion were never far off ... It
remains to say that all these powers and accomplish-
ments found their best and only adequate channel
in her conversation; a conversation which those
who have heard it, unanimously, as far as I know,
pronounced to be, in elegance, in range, in flexi-
bility, and adroit transition, in depth, and cordiality,
and in moral aim, altogether admirable ; surprising
and cheerful as a poem, and communicating its own
civility and elevation like a charm to all hearers.
. . . Whilst she embellished the moment, her
conversation had the merit of being solid and true.
She put her whole character into it, and had the
power to inspire. The companion was made a
thinker, and went away quite other than he came."
Miss Peabody tells a very characteristic anecdote
relating to Emerson's first acquaintance with Mar-
garet Fuller : — " Emerson had returned from Europe,
had recovered his health, had married a second time,
had settled at Concord, and he and I had gotten

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 83

over being shy with each other ; but he had not
gotten on as well with Margaret Fuller. Margaret
wrote poetry, and people laughed about it, and said
she wrote it in fits of exaltation, which she called
* intense times.' This gave Mr. Emerson, who was
very simple and natural, a prejudice against her.
One day, when visiting at his house, I expressed
the wish that he could know Margaret better.
Mrs. Emerson, who is the soul of disinterested
kindness, proposed at once that Margaret be in-
vited to come to their house. ' Oh, no,' cried Mr.
Emerson, ' I don't want to know a lady who has
" intense times," and writes poetry in them.' Then
I went on and told how I had had the same pre-
judice ; how it all melted away when I conversed
with her, and how, in talking with me, she had
made the whole universe look larger. At this
assurance Mr. Emerson's face suddenly lighted,
and, turning to his wife, he exclaimed : ' Yes,
Queenie, you are right. Invite her, by all means.
Let us welcome any young woman whose converse
can make the whole universe look larger to us.' "

With regard to the influence which Emerson
had on her mind and character, we have her own
estimate: — "His influence has been more beneficial
to me than that of any American, and from him I
first learned what is meant by an inward life.

84 IN ME MORI AM: \

Many other springs have since fed the stream of i

living waters, but he first opened the fountain.
That the 'mind is its own place' was a dead phrase
to me till he cast light upon my mind. Several of
his sermons stand apart in memory, like land-marks
of my spiritual history. It would take a volume
to tell what this one influence did for me." And
again : — " My inmost heart blesses the fate that
gave me birth in the same clime and time, and \

that has drawn me into such a close bond with him j

as, it is my hopeful faith, will never be broken, but j

from sphere to sphere ever be hallowed. When I
look forward to eternal growth, I am always aware
that I am far larger and deeper for him."

Margaret Fuller has left a record of her impres-
sions of Emerson's Lectures, too long for quotation i
in full, but from which it is worth while giving a
few sentences : " Among his audience some there ,
were — simple souls — whose life had been, perhaps,
without clear light, yet still a search after truth for i
its own sake, who were able to recognise beneath his i
veil of words the still small voice of conscience, the
vestal fires of lone religious hours, and the mild |
teachings of the summer woods. The charm of his !
elocution was great. His general manner was that |
of the reader, occasionally rising into direct address |
or invocation in passages where tenderness or |

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 85

majesty demanded more energy. At such times
both eye and voice called on a remote future to
give a worthy reply — a future which shall manifest
more largely the universal soul as it was then mani-
fest to his soul. The tone of the voice was a grave
body tone, full and sweet rather than sonorous, yet
flexible, and haunted by many modulations, as even
instruments of w^ood and brass seem to become
after they have been long played on with skill and
taste ; how much more so the human voice ! In
the most expressive passages it uttered notes of
silvery clearness, winning, yet still more command-
ing. The words uttered in those tones floated
awhile above us, then took root in the memory like
winged seed. In the union of an even rustic
plainness with lyric inspiration, religious dignity
with philosophic calmness, keen sagacity in details
with boldness of view, we saw what brought to
mind the early poets and legislators of Greece —
men who taught their fellows to plough and avoid
moral evil, sing hymns to the gods, and watch the
metamorphosis of nature. Here in civic Boston
was such a man — one who could see man in his
original grandeur and his original childishness,
rooted in simple nature, raising to the heavens the
brow and eye of a poet."

Something has been said in the preceding para-

86 IN MEMORIAM:

graph with regard to Emerson's voice. Another
friend, Mr. E. Whipple, the well-known American
critic, alluding to this characteristic, says : — " Emer-
son's voice had a strange power, which affected me
more than any other voice I ever heard on the stage
or on the platform. It was pure thought translated
into purely intellectual tone, — the perfect music of
spiritual utterance. It is impossible to read his
verses adequately without bearing in mind his pecu-
liar accent and emphasis ; and some of the grandest
and most uplifting passages in his prose lose much
of their effect unless the reader can recall the tones
of his voice ; — a voice now, alas ! silent on earth for
ever, but worthy of being heard in that celestial
company which he, ' a spirit of the largest size and
divinest mettle,' has now exchanged for his earthly
companions. . , . His voice had the stern,
keen, penetrating sweetness which made it a fit
organ for his self-centred, commanding mind. Yet
though peculiar to himself, it had at the same time
an impersonal character, as though a spirit was
speaking through him." When strongly moved,
his voice would assume the deepest intensity, and
his whole frame tremble with emotion, — kindling,
as if by magnetic sympathy, the feelings of his
audience. Such was the case on a memorable
occasion. An eminent lawyer of Boston, Rufus

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 87

Choatc, in defending slavery, spoke of the Declara-
tion of Independence, popularly held to be incon-
sistent with slavery, as a series of " glittering
generalities." In a lecture given afterwards, Emer-
son quoted some of Choate's phrases — as those
declaring "all men are born equal," and are
endowed with " inalienable rights," — and then
said with ineffable scorn — "These have been
called glittering generalities ; they are BLAZING
UBIQUITIES," The impression produced by this
indignant sentence was tremendous.

The writer of this memoir had the good fortune
to spend an evening in Miss Fuller's company in
the autumn of 1846. She had just arrived in Eng-
land, with the intention of making a long-delayed
tour in Europe, with some American friends by
whom she was accompanied. She spent a few days
in Liverpool, and it was in the house of Mrs. Ames,
a lady well known in Liverpool and Manchester
circles in those days, that the conversazione took
place. Her conversation — or rather monologue —
was so memorable as to warrant all that has
been said of it by her friends. On this occasion
she ranged over a great variety of topics, social,
literary, artistic, and religious, with an ease and
assured grasp which made the listener feel that
he was under the spell of a mind of undoubted

88 IN MEMORIAM:

oi'^inality, of singular magnetic force, and of the
widest culture and accomplishments. Among other
subjects she spoke in the warmest manner of a book
that had recently appeared, called "Margaret; a
Talc of the Real and the Ideal," written by the
Rev. Sylvester Judd, of Augusta, Maine, containing
the material for half-a-dozen ordinary novels —
" full of imagination, aromatic, poetical, pictur-
esque, tender, and in the dress of fiction — setting
forth the whole gospel of Transcendentalism in
religion, political reform, social ethics, personal
character,professional and private life." The subject
of the story, which belongs to the years following the
Revolutionary War, is the development of a beauti-
ful female nature, — the embodiment of an inbred
natural refinement and purity, — amidst the rudest
and most boorish surroundings, with vivid pictures
of the religious life and homely customs of a rough
frontier country ; a tale full of moral earnestness, and
fidelity to local traits, with wonderfully real descrip-
tions of the varying appearances of nature and the
changes of human occupation. This strange story,
which some critics consider one of the best of
American romances, was the theme of much bril-
liant and far-reaching comment, which she poured
forth with a fluency and commanding eloquence
that almost took the breath from some among her

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 89

audience. She kindly lent the book to the present
writer, and invited a correspondence regarding it.
While in Liverpool she heard a discourse by the
Rev. James Martineau, which called forth her warm
admiration.

Every reader of Mr. Lowell knows his intensely
humorous description of the characteristics of
Emerson and Carlyle, in "A Fable for Critics."
That keen and vigorous critic has said many
admirable things in prose about Emerson, and any
memoir of him would be incomplete and inadequate
which did not include the following exquisitely ex-
pressed tribute to his genius and influence. "A lec-
turer now for something like a third of a century, one
of the pioneers of the lecturing system, the charm
of his voice, his manner, and his matter has never
lost its power over his earlier hearers, and con-
tinually winds new ones in its enchanting meshes.
. . . I have heard some great, speakers and
some accomplished orators, but never any that so
moved and persuaded men as he. There is a kind
of undertone in that rich baritone of his that sweeps
our minds from their foothold into deep waters
with a drift we can not and would not resist. And
how artfully (for Emerson is a long-studied artist
in these things) does the deliberate utterance, that
seems waiting for the first word, seem to admit us

90 IN MEMO R I AM:

partners in the labour of thought, and make us feel
as if the glance of humour were a sudden suggestion ;
as if the perfect phrase lying written there on the
desk were as unexpected to him as to us. . . .
There is no man living to whom, as a writer, so
many of us feel and thankfully acknowledge so
great an indebtedness for ennobling impulses. We
look upon him as one of the few men of genius
whom our age has produced. Search for his
eloquence in his books, and you will perchance
miss it, but meanwhile you will find that it has
kindled all your thoughts. For choice and pith of
language he belongs to a better age than ours, and
mie:ht rub shoulders with Fuller and Sir Thomas
Browne — a diction at once so rich and so homely
as his I know not where to match. It is like
homespun cloth-of-gold. I know no one that can
hold a promiscuous crowd in pleased attention so
long as he. . . . ' Plain living and high thinking'
speak to us in this altogether unique lay-preacher.
We have shared in the beneficence of this varied
culture, this fearless impartiality in criticism and
speculation, this masculine sincerity, this sweetness
of nature which rather stimulates than cloys, for a
generation long. If ever there was a standing
testimonial to the cumulative power and value of
Character — wc have it in this gracious and dig-

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 91

nified presence. What an antiseptic is a pure life !
At sixty-five he has that privilege of soul which
abolishes the calendar, and presents him to us
always the unwasted contemporary of his own
prime. . . . Who that saw the audience will
ever forget it, where every one still capable of fire,
or longing to renew in them the half-forgotten
sense of it, was gathered? Those faces, young and
old, agleam with pale intellectual light, eager with
pleased attention, flash upon me once more from
the deep recesses of the years with an exquisite
pathos. Ah, beautiful young eyes, brimming with
love and hope, wholly vanished now in that other
world we call the Past, or peering doubtfully
through the pensive gloaming of memory, your
light impoverishes these cheaper days ! I hear
again that rustle of sensation, as they turned to
exchange glances over some pithier thought, some
keener flash of that humour which always played
about the horizon of his mind like heat-lightning,
and it seems now like the sad whisper of the
autumn leaves that are whirling around me. . . .
His younger hearers could not know how much they
owed to the benign impersonality, that quiet scorn
of everything ignoble, the never-sated hunger of
self-culture, that were personified in the man before
them. But the older knew how much the country's

92 IN MEMORIAM:

intellectual emancipation was due to the stimulus
of his teaching and example, how constantly he had
kept burning the beacon of an ideal life above our
lower reg-ion of turmoil. To him more than to all
other causes did the young martyrs of our Civil
War owe the sustaining strength of thoughtful
heroism that is so touching in every record of their
lives. Those who are grateful to Mr, Emerson, as
many of us are, for what they feel to be most
valuable in their culture, or perhaps I should say
their impulse, are grateful not so much for any
direct teachings of his as for that inspiring lift
which only genius can give, and without which all
doctrine is chaff." " I can never help applying to
him what Ben Jonson said of Bacon — ' There hap-
pened in my time one noble speaker, who was full
of gravity in his speaking. His language was nobly
censorious. No man ever spoke more neatly, more
pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness,
less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of
his speech but consisted of his own graces. His
hearers could not cough, or look aside from him,
without loss. He commanded where he spoke.' "

Mr. Lowell gives a vivid description of the effect
produced by Emerson's speech at the Burns Cen-
tenary dinner at Boston in 1859. "In that closely-
filed speech of his every word seemed to have just

RALPH WALDO EMERSON, 93

dropped from the clouds. He looked far away-
over the heads of his hearers with a vague kind of
expectation, as into some private heaven of inven-
tion, and the winged period came at last obedient
to his spell. . . . Every sentence brought down
the house, as I never saw one brought down
before, — and it is not so easy to heat Scotsmen
with a sentiment that has no hint of native brogue
in it. I watched, for it was an interesting study,
how the quick sympathy ran flashing from face to
face down the long tables, like an electric spark
thrilling as it went, and then exploded in a
thunder of plaudits. I watched till tables and
faces vanished, for I, too, found myself caught up
in the common enthusiasm." This celebrated speech
is reprinted in the latter portion of this volume.

From an Essay on Emerson by John Burroughs,
the author of several volumes of rare merit, pub-
lished in New York, and which it is surprising no
London publisher has yet introduced to British
readers, a few sentences are here given, — full of
pith and just appreciation. Mr. 'Burroughs wields
a racy pen, and there is the ring of the true metal
in his delightful sketches of outdoor nature, mingled
with chapters of a more purely literary character.

I know of no other writing that yields the reader so many
strongly stamped medallion-like sayings and distinctions. There

94 IN MEMO RI AM:

is a perpetual refining and recoining of the current wisdom of life
and conversation. It is the old gold or silver or copper ; but how
bright and new it looks in his pages ! Emerson loves facts, things,
objects, as the workman his tools. He makes everything serve.
The stress of expression is so great that he bends the most obdurate
element to his purpose; as the bird, under her keen necessity,
weaves the most contrary and diverse materials into her nest. He
seems to like best material that is a little refractory ; it makes his
page more piquant and stimulating. Within certain limits he
loves roughness, but not to the expense of harmony. He has a
wonderful hardiness and push. Where else in literature is there a,
mind, moving in so rare a medium, that gives one such a sense of
tangible resistance and force ?

But after we have made all possible deductions from Emerson
there remains the fact that he is a living force, and, tried by home
standards, a master. Wherein does the secret of his power lie?
He is the prophet and philosopher of young men. The old man
and the man of the world make little of him, but of the youth
who is ripe for him he takes almost an unfair advantage. One secret
of his charm I take to be the instant success with which he trans-
fers our interest in the romantic, the chivalrous, the heroic, to the
sphere of morals and the intellect. We are let into another realm
unlooked for, where daring and imagination also lead. The
secret and suppressed heart finds a champion. To the young man
fed upon the penny precepts and staple Johnsonianism of English
literature, and of what is generally doled out in the schools and
colleges, it is a surprise; it is a revelation, A new world opens
before him. The nebrflje of his spirit are resolved or shown to be
irresolvable. The fixed stars of his inner firmament are brought
immeasurably near. He drops all other books. , . . Emerson
is the knight errant of the moral sentiment. He leads in our time
and country, one illustrious division, at least, in the holy crusade of
the affections and the intuitions against the usurpations of tradition
and theological dogma.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 95

Everything about a man like Emerson is important. I find his
phrenology and physiognomy more than ordinarily typical and sug-
gestive. Look at his picture there, — large, strong features on
a small face and head, — no blank spaces; all given up to expression ;
a high, predacious nose, a sinewy brow, a massive, benevolent chin.
In most men there is more face than feature ; but here is vast deal
more feature than face, and a corresponding alertness and emphasis
of character. Indeed, the man is made after this fashion. He is all
type. His mind has the hand's pronounced anatomy, its cords and
sinews and multiform articulations and processes, its opposing and
co-ordinating power. There may have been broader and more catholic
natures, but few so towering and audacious in expression, and so
rich in characteristic traits. Every scrap and shred of him is im-
portant and related. Like the strongly aromatic herbs and simples, — •
sage, mint, wintergreen, sassafras, — the least part carries the flavour of
the whole. Is there one indifferent, or equivocal, or unsympathising
drop of blood in him ? Where he is at all he is entirely, — nothing
extemporaneous ; his most casual word seems to have lain in pickle
for a long time, and is saturated through and through with the
Emersonian brine. Indeed, so pungent and penetrating is this
quality, that his quotations seem more than half his own.

Mention has already been made of Emerson's
sympathy with the Anti-Slavery Movement (^'.p. 59),
and the priceless service he rendered to that cause.
His views on Free Trade were of the most advanced
and far-reaching nature. "America," he said in one of
his public addresses, "means opportunity, freedom,
power. The genius of this country has marked out
her true policy; opportunity — doors wide open —
every port open. If I could I would have Free
Trade with all the world, without toll or custom-
house. Let us invite every nation, every race, every

96 IN MEMO R I AM:

skin; white man, black man, red man, yellow man.
Let us offer hospitality, a fair field, and equal laws
to all. The land is wide enough, the soil has food
enough for all." With regard to National Educa-
tion he said : — " We should cling to the common
school, and enlarge and extend the opportunities it
offers. Let us educate every soul. Every native
child, and every foreign child that is cast on our
coast should be taught, at the public cost, first, the
rudiments of knowledge, and then, as far as may
be, the ripest results of art and science." An acute
writer in the " Spectator," of May 6th, 1882, speak-
ing of the interest Emerson took in all public
events, makes this remark : " He sympathised
ardently with all the great practical movements of
his own day, while Carlyle held contemptuously
aloof He was one of the first to strike a heavy
blow at the institution of slavery. He came for-
ward to encourage his country in the good cause,
when slavery raised the flag of rebellion. He
had a genuine desire to see all men free, while
Carlyle only felt the desire to see all men strongly
governed — which they might be, without being
free at all. Emerson's spirit, moreover, was much
the saner, and more reverent, of the two, though
less rich in power and humour."

During the last three or four years his memory

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. q-j

frequently failed him, especially in reference to his
recollection of more recent events. But he was
himself perfectly conscious of this, and though it
did not prevent his occasionally delivering lectures
and taking part in public gatherings, from the
time this defect became manifest he was always
accompanied to the platform by his daughter,
whose devotion and considerate tact invariably
supplied the words and phrases which Mr. Emerson
could not recall. To the last he continued to take
great interest in the well-being of his neighbours
and the intellectual and material progress of his
native village. He had never lost his inherent love
of dignified simplicity in domestic life, and his
home was a model of refinement and unostenta-
tious comfort. He was never more happy than in
the company of his grandchildren, and all children
loved him. His old age was serene, and the sweet-
ness and gentleness of his character were more and
more apparent as the years rolled on. To the last,
even when the events of yesterday were occasion-
ally obscured, his memory of the remote past was
unclouded. He would talk about the friends of his
early and middle life with unbroken vigour ; and
those who ever had the good fortune to hear him,
in the free intercourse of his own study, will not
soon forget the charm of his conversation and the
H

98

IN MEMORIAM:

crraciousncss of his demeanour. He would drive
with his visitors to the numerous interesting spots
in and about Concord, he would point out the old
home of his own family, the house of his friend,
Mr. Alcott, and the still more famous " old manse "
which Hawthorne has made immortal.

One who had the pleasure of visiting him within
the last two years has told how he saw the wise old
man whom he had first heard in Manchester more
than thirty years before, and again in the seclusion
of a friend's house during Mr. Emerson's last visit
to England, and at last in the home of his youth
and age. " Assuredly," says this privileged visitor,
"this great and good man was seldom seen to
rarer advantage. He drove me to the haunts of
the pilgrims who came to Concord to see the place
of so many noble and interesting associations ; in
the public library of the town which he had helped
to establish, he showed me not a few literary
treasures which the greatest libraries in the world
might envy — he pointed out the famous tavern
where the British soldiers stopped on the day made
memorable by the first fight in the war of Indepen-
dence. And on the battle-field itself, where the
beautiful Concord river still flows silently between
the low hills which almost entwine the little town,
he told the story of the famous struggle. It was a

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 99

perfect spring day ; light breezes stirred the pine
trees under which lay the remains of the nameless
English soldiers ; and hard by was the granite
monument to the memory of the local militiamen
who fell in that famous skirmish. The scenes and
the associations were in themselves eloquent, but
they were rendered immeasurably more so by the
narrative of the sage whose verses, cut in stone on
the monument before us, will tell to future gene-
rations how Concord's noblest son sang of the
renown of his country's defenders. A few weeks
afterwards I was present at one of the dinners of
the famous Saturday Club. As the wits of the
Restoration and Queen Anne's days met at Will's
Coffee House to listen to Dryden or in the more
select conclave of the October Club, so the poets,
essayists, and humourists of Boston assembled at
these dinners, held sometimes at the houses of the
members, and sometimes, when the meetings were
larger, in one of the hotels. This was a notable
gathering ; it was intended to do special honour to
the distinguished Massachusetts lawyer, who had
just returned from presiding at the Chicago Con-
vention which had nominated General Garfield,
Republican candidate, for the Presidency. Long-
fellow was in the chair ; James T. Fields was near
him. Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was as usual the

lOO IN MEMORIAM:

life and soul of the party, and the company in-
cluded other scarcely less famous men. Emerson
had not recently been able to attend many of the
meetings, but the occasion was no ordinary one.
' Look at Emerson,' said Fields ; ' how happy he
appears ; was there ever such a sweet smile, and
yet how silent he is. In the early days of the
club, when Agassiz, its founder, was with us, he
and Emerson were the liveliest of us all.' It was
touching to see the marks of reverence and regard
which all displayed to him, and to notice his
appreciatory responses. He thoroughly enjoyed
the sparkling sallies of Wendell Holmes, and when
Longfellow, to whom speech-making was always a
punishment, in a few well-chosen words, referred
to the presence of their honoured fellow-member,
Emerson was constrained to reply, and he did not
forget to tell us that if he could not make them
a speech he was only following the example of his
friend the chairman. It was altogether a delightful
meeting, but already there are melancholy associa-
tions with it. Fields, whose 'Yesterdays with
Authors ' has given us so many delightful sketches
of famous men, has followed his friends Thackeray
and Dickens. Longfellow, the sweetest, the most
genial, and gentle of poets and men, has also gone,
and now we mourn the departure of the greatest

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. loi

of them, Emerson himself, a man in whom were
combined the strength of the New England Puri-
tan and the grace and beauty of the accomplished
Greek."

The sense of beauty was so vital an element in
the very constitution of Emerson's being, that it
decorated everything it touched. The perception
and sentiment of beauty is one of the great charac-
teristics of his intellect. Beauty is the theme of
some of his noblest utterances. " So strong is this,"
says his friend Mr. E. Whipple, " that he accepts
nothing in life that is uncomely, haggard, or ghastly.
The fact that an opinion depresses, instead of
invigorates, is with him a sufficient reason for its
rejection. His observation, his wit, his reason, his
Imagination, his style, all obey the controlling sense
of beauty which is at the heart of his nature, and
instinctively avoid the ugly and the base."

The native elevation of his mind and the
general loftiness of his thinking have sometimes
blinded his admirers to the fact that he was one
of the shrewdest of practical observers, and was
capable of meeting so-called practical men on the
level of the facts and principles which they relied
upon for success in life. " He always impressed me
with the conviction," says the last-quoted writer,
"that an idealist of the high type of Emerson was as

102 . IN MEMORIAM:

good a judge of investments on earth as he was of
investments in the heaven above the earth." His
practical, unerring sagacity and power of observa-
tion show themselves throughout his writings, what-
ever be the subject. No better illustration of this
quality can be given than in the few sentences in
which he happens to speak of infancy and its real
though unacknowledged influence over every mem-
ber of the household — everything having to adapt
itself to its wants, and moods, and caprices : —

Who knows not the beautiful group of l)a1je and mother, sacred
in nature, now sacred also in the religious associations of half the
globe ? Welcome to the parents is the puny struggler, strong in his
weakness, his little arms more irresistible than the soldier's, his lips
touched with persuasion which Chatham and Pericles in manhood
had not. The small despot asks so little that all nature and reason
are on his side. His ignorance is more charming than all know-
ledge, and his little sins more bewitching than any virtue. All day,
between his three or four sleeps, he coos like a pigeon-house,
sputters and spurns, and puts on his faces of importance ; and when
he fasts, the little Pharisee fails not to sound his trumpet before him.
Out of blocks, thread-spools, cards and chequers, he will build his
pyramid with the gravity of Palladio. With an acoustic apparatus
of whistle and rattle he explores the laws of sound. But chiefly,
like his senior countrymen, the young American studies new and
speedier modes of transportation. Mistrusting the cunning of his
small legs, he wishes to ride on the necks and shoulders of all flesh.
The small enchanter nothing can withstand, — no seniority of age, no
gravity of character; uncles, aunts, cousins, grandsires, grandames, —
all fall an easy prey : he conforms to nobody, all conform to him ;
all caper and make mouths, and babble and chirrup to him. On
the strongest shoulders he rides, and pulls the hair of laurelled heads.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 103

It was a peculiarity in Emerson that the thing
he most disHked was sickness, while disease he
regarded with the strongest aversion. He himself
said that during forty years he was never confined
to bed for a single day. To him virtue was health,
and he used to quote a saying of Dr. Johnson's that
" every man is a rascal when he is sick." He be-
lieved that the outward complaint originates in some
inward complaint, and that if we were perfectly
obedient to the laws of the soul and of nature, there
would be no sickness or disease. He believed that
human suffering arose from disobedience to laws
that may and ought to be obeyed. When obeyed,
the sickness will cease, and the weakness will be
gone. Among many practical rules laid down for
the promotion of the happiness of social intercourse
he considered this as one of prime importance : —
" Never name sickness. Even if you could trust
yourself on that perilous topic, beware of un-
muzzling a valetudinarian, who will soon give you
your fill of it."

With regard to Emerson's claims as a poet,
something must here be said. The essence of true
poetry is manifest in many of his utterances that
take not the form of versification. He is emphati-
cally a poet in his prose. His poems contain
genuine inspiration of the very highest kind, but

104 IN MEMORIAM:

rhyme does not always aid its development. In a
single page he gives more of the spirit of poetry
than would supply a dozen of ordinary rhymesters
for the whole of their lives ; and yet there are
poetasters who could at least equal him in the con-
struction of passable verses. When the world is
wiser, Emerson will be owned as a great poet.
There are single poems of his which for depth of
feeling, tender regret, profound insight into the
human soul, and an inimitable quaintness and
simplicity (sometimes rivalling George Herbert
himself) are not to be matched in the works of the
acknowledged masters of the poetic art. It has been
said that " Some of his stanzas read like oracles.
Their worth to our moral being is so close, that we
are scarcely surprised that he gives them forth with
the confident tone of the seer and the prophet.
They rank with the loftiest utterances which have
ever proceeded from the awakened heart, and con-
science, and intellect of man."

It is worth while to observe the consensus
of opinion regarding the intrinsic worth of his
poetry, resulting from minds of the widest diver-
sity of constitution and culture. His friend. Dr.
Hedge, says: — " In poetic art he does not excel.
The verses often halt, the conclusion sometimes
flags, and metrical propriety is recklessly violated.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 105

But this defect is closely connected with the charac-
teristic merit of the poet, and springs from the
same root — his utter spontaneity. And this spon-
taneity is but a mode of his sincerity. More than
those of any of his contemporaries, his poems, for
the most part, arc inspirations. They are not
made, but given ; they come of themselves. They
are not meditated, but burst from the soul with an
irrepressible necessity of utterance — sometimes with
a rush which defies the shaping intellect. It seems
as if it were not the man himself that speaks, but
a power behind— call it Daemon or Muse. Where
the Muse flags, it is her fault, not his ; he is not
going to help her out with wilful elaboration or
emendation. There is no trace, as in most poetry,
of joiner-work, and no mark of the file. . . .
Wholly unique, and transcending all contemporary
verse in grandeur of style, is the piece entitled
' The Problem.' When first it appeared in ' The
Dial,' forty years ago, I said : ' There has been
nothing done in English rhyme like this since
Milton. All between it and Milton seemed tame
in comparison.' "

Miss Elizabeth Peabody, Emerson's life-long
friend, in the same letter to the present writer, quoted
at p. 21, says, with reference to his poetry: — " He
seems to me to have most fully expressed his

io6 IN MEMORIAM :

peculiar individuality in his poetry. He seems to
me a poet, par eminence — his Sphynx, his Uriel,
Bacchus, The Problem, the Ode to Beauty, Each
and All, his Threnody, his Dirge, his In Memoriam,
Love and Thought — where can be found higher
flights — more of the music of the spheres? He
once said to me, ' I am not a great poet — but what-
ever is of me, is a poet ! ' "

Since the first edition of this memoir was pub-
lished, the writer of it has received a letter from
Earl Lytton (July i8th, 1882), containing some
remarks on Emerson as a poet, from which he
takes the liberty of giving a few sentences : — " I
suppose there are few Englishmen of our genera-
tion who have not been more or less influenced at
some period of life by Emerson's genius. He is
the most far-reaching of all American writers. On
my own youth he made a deep and delightful
impression, and when I visited America in 1849,
he was of all eminent Americans the only one I
had an ardent desire to meet. Alas for me, of
those then living he is also the only one I did not
meet. ... I am glad you have spoken up for
his verse, which I admire greatly and think under-
rated by the majority of critics, who, like the
majority of administrators, never know how to
deal with a case for which they can find no prece-

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 107

dent upon the file. Neither creative nor passionate,
and, therefore, not of the highest order of poetry,
they must be judged, I think, in reference to the
value of the thought that inspires them, and to the
fitness of their service as its vehicles. From these
points of view they seem to me perfect of their
kind ; and the roughness of their rhythm a virtue —
not a defect of art. They are not Hebrew Psalms
uttered to the harp, but Delphic oracles, or sunny
meditations of a serene Pan, delivered in broken
snatches to faint sounds of sylvan flutes. . . .
Emerson's work in its ensemble (prose and verse
together) I take to be the loftiest, the largest, and
the loveliest expression yet given to the philosophy
of Democracy."

In a letter to the present writer, soon after
Emerson's death, from Mr. Henry Larkin,* one
of his most discriminating English admirers and
critics, some remarks occur relating to his poems
which are worthy of preservation : —

" I well recollect the wonder with which I first

* Mr. Larkin is the author of a remarkable book, entitled
" Extra Physics, and The Mystery of Creation : including a Brief
Examination of Professor Tyndall's Admission concerning the
Human Soul ;" but he is better known as having contributed one
of the most interesting articles on Carlyle that has yet appeared,
under the title of "Carlyle and Mrs. Carlyle; a Ten Years'
Reminiscence." It extends to over fifty pages, and will be found
in "The British Quarterly Review," for July, 1S81.

io8 AV MEMORIAM:

became familiar with those crystal-clear perceptions

of his, — visions as if from the very mountain top

of the human intellect. To me they were a distinct

revelation of new intellectual possibilities, hitherto

only dimly imagined. We talk, naturally enough,

of Emerson being one of the greatest of American

writers ; to mc he has always stood alone in the

great history of literature — the clearest seer, the

most dauntless speaker, the deftest and most subtle

intellect ; uttering his convictions in words of light

tinted only from the azure of infinity. I know

nothing more exquisitely dainty than some of his

snatches of poetry. Those who see no poetry in

them, simply do not see them at all. I can only

compare them to exquisite snow-crystals, fresh

gathered from some highest mountain peak, where

the clouds of human infirmity never reach. Human

passion, in the Edgar Foe sense, they have none ;

but for subtlety of insight and delicacy of utterance,

I think they stand alone in literature."

Another critic says: — "The reason that such
erand utterances as these thrill us with unwonted
emotion is to be found in our instinctive belief that
the poet's character was on a level with his lofty
thinking. He affirmed the supremacy of spiritual
laws because he spoke from a height of spiritual
experience to which he had mounted by the steps

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 109

of spiritual growth. In reading him, we feel that
we are in communion with an original person, as
well as with an original poet, — one whose character
is as brave as it is sweet, as strong as it is beautiful,
as firm and resolute in will as it is keen and delicate
in might, — one who has earned the right to authori-
tatively announce, without argument, great spiritual
facts and principles, because his soul has come into
direct contact with them. As a poet he often takes
strange liberties with the established laws of rhyme
and rhythm ; even his images are occasionally
enigmas ; but he still contrives to pour through his
verse a flood and rush of inspiration not often per-
ceptible in the axiomatic sentences of his most
splendid prose. In his verse he gives free, joyous,
exulting expression to all the audacities of his
thinking and feeling."

Mr. E. Whipple, whom we have already quoted,
contributes an article on Emerson's poetry to a
recent number of the " North American Review,"
from which the following extract is given : —

Perhaps it may be asserted that the finest, loftiest, and deepest
thoughts of Emerson, being poetic in essence, would naturally have
found vent in some of the forms of poetic expression, for they
announce spiritual facts and principles, vividly and warmly perceived,
which are commonly not content with being stated, but carry with
them an impulse and demand to be sung or chanted. If his piercing
insight had been accompanied by a sensibility corresponding to it,

no IN MEMORIAM:

he would have given us more poems and fewer essays ; but there
was a certain rigidity in his nature which could be made to melt and
flow only when it was subjected to intense heat. Some persons
were inclined to confound this rigidity with frigidity of character,
and called him cold ; but the difference was as great as that between
iron and ice. The fire in him, which would instantly have dissipated
ice into vapour, made the iron in him run molten and white-hot
into the mould of his thought, when he was stirred by a great senti-
ment or an inspiring insight. It is admitted that he is worthy to
rank among the great masters of expression ; yet he was the least
fluent of educated human beings. In a company of swift talkers he
seemed utterly helpless, until he fixed upon the right word or phrase
to embody his meaning, and then the word or phrase was like a gold
coin, fresh and bright from the mint, and recognised as worth ten
times as much as the small change of conversation which had been
circulating so rapidly around the table, while he was mute or
stammering. That wonderful compactness and condensation of
statement, which surprise and charm the readers of his books, were
due to the fact that he exerted every faculty of his mind in the act
of verbal expression. A prodigal in respect to thoughts, he was
still the most austere economist in the use of words. We detect this
quality in his poetry as in his prose ; but, in his poetry, it is found
to be compatible with the lyric rush, the unwithholding self-
abandonment to the inspiration of the muse, which commonly
characterizes poets who, in their enthusiasm, have lost their self-
possession and self-command.

As regards Emerson's literary methods, Mr.
Cooke thus speaks : — " It was his habit to spend
the forenoon in his study, with constant regularity.
He did not wait for moods, but caught them as
they came, and used their results in each day's
work. It was his wont to jot down his thoughts
at all hours and places. The suggestions resulting

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. Ill

from his readings, conversations, and meditations,
were immediately transferred to the note-book he
ahvays carried with him. In his walks, many a
gem of thought was in this way preserved. Even
during the night he would get up and jot down
some thought worth laying hold of The story is
told that his wife suddenly awoke in the night,
before she knew his habits, and heard him moving
about the room. She anxiously inquired if he were
ill. 'Only an idea' was his reply, and proceeded
to jot it down. All the results of his thinking
were thus stored up, to be made use of when
required. After his note-books were filled, he
transcribed their contents in a large common-
place book. When a fresh subject possessed his
mind, he brought together the jottings he found
he had written down concerning it, forming them
into a connected whole, with additional material
suggested at the time. His essays were thus very
slowly elaborated, wrought out through days and
months, and even years, of patient thought. They
were all carefully revised, again and again ; cor-
rected, wrought over, portions dropped, new matter
added, or the paragraphs arranged in a new order.
He was unsparing in his corrections, striking out
sentence after sentence ; and whole paragraphs
disappear from time to time. His manuscript was

112 IN iMEMORIAM:

everywhere filled with erasures and emendations ;
scarcely a page that was not covered with these
evidences of his diligent revision."

A friend says that few authors have published
less than Emerson in comparison with the great
mass of papers which remain unprinted. " Scarcely
any of his numerous sermons have ever been pub-
lished ; most of his speeches on political and social
occasions remain uncollected and unedited ; many
verses exist only in manuscript, or have been with-
drawn from publication ; and even of his lectures,
from which he has printed freely for nearly forty
years, a great many still remain in manuscript.
Even those published omit much that was
spoken, — the five lectures on History, on Love,
and others, displaying so many omissions to those
who heard them, that the author was at the time
sorely complained of by his faithful hearers for
leaving out so much that had delighted them. Few
or none of the philosophical lectures read at
Harvard University eight or nine years ago, and
designed to make part of what he called ' The
Natural History of the Intellect,' have ever been
printed. This work, when completed, was to be the
author's most systematic and connected treatise. It
was to contain, what could not fail to be of interest
to all readers, his observ^ations on his own intellec-

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 113

tual processes and methods, of which he has always
been studiously watchful, and which, from his habit
of writing, he has carefully noted down. From this
work, which, even if not finished, will at some time
be printed, and^from his correspondence of these
many years, portions of which will finally be printed,
it will be possible to reconstruct hereafter a rare
and remarkable episode in literary history."

Another American writer, speaking of Emerson's
unwillingness to print anything but his best, says : —
" He has always been extremely careful of what
he put into print, regarding the covers of a book
as a sacred temple into which only the purest and
best of a writer should be permitted to enter. No
American or European has been so superlatively
fastidious as he respecting publication. He believed
that a book should have every reason for being ;
that nothing trivial, passing, or temporary should
be introduced into it ; that the sole excuse for a
book should be the presentation of fresh thought ;
that its contents should be in some manner an
addition to the common stock of knowledge.
Most authors would have put all their lectures and
essays between covers because they had written
them, and because they could gain something
thereby. Emerson was an illustrious example to
his guild in this particular. If he had less vanity
I

114 IN MEMORIAM:

than members of his craft generally he had more
pride, more regard for his reputation, more confi-
dent expectation of enduring fame. It is said that
he had unwavering confidence in J:his, and that
therefore he published what waaruniversal and
abiding in interest and influence, and compressed
his utterances into the smallest space. Had all
writers followed his example how immeasurably
libraries would have been reduced ! A hundred
volumes would shrink to one, and there might be
some hope of a tireless student in a long life
gaining a slight smattering of the great authors
with whom everybody is presumed to be wholly
familiar. Emerson is a pattern to all mere book-
makers present and to come. If he had done
nothing else than to inculcate by example the
economy of print he would deserve a separate
niche in the temple of literary fame, and who shall
say that he has not secured it ? All the writings
he has wished to be known by can be put into
three small volumes, and in these is there not as
much weighty and important matter as can be
discovered in the same space in any language?
The matter is not (as in the great majority of
books) what can be found elsewhere — generally
far better said — in the illimitable wilderness of
type. It is, barring quotations, which always serve

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 115

to illustrate his idea, actually Emerson's own, the
fruit of his observation, study, and reflection — the
action of an original individual mind upon life,
history, and nature."

Emerson always declined controversy, and re-
fused to enter into disputation with a view to bring
people round to his way of thinking. This charac-
teristic is well brought out in the following extract
from a recent article by Mr. E. Whipple.*

It is impossible for those who only knew Emerson through his
writings to vmderstand the peculiar love and veneration felt for him
by those who knew him personally. Only by intercourse with him
could the singular force, sweetness, elevation, originality, and com-
prehensiveness of his nature be fully appreciated ; and the friend or
acquaintance, however he might differ from him in opinion, felt the
peculiar fascination of his character, and revolved around this solar
mind, in obedience to the law of spiritual gravitation — the spiritual
law operating, like the natural law, directly as the mean, and
inversely as the square of the distance. The friends nearest to him
loved and honoured him most ; but those who only met him occa-
sionally felt the attraction of his spiritual turn, and could not mention
him without a tribute of respect. There probably never was a
man of the first class, with a general system of thought at variance
with accredited opinions, who exercised so much gentle, persuasive
power over the minds of his opponents. By declining all tempta-
tions to controversy he never reahsed the ferocious spirit which con-
troversy engenders ; he went on year after year in affirming certain
spiritual facts which had been revealed to him when his soul was on
the heights of spiritual contemplation ; and if he differed from other

* " Some Recollections of Ralph Waldo Emerson," in "Harper's
Monthly Magazine," September, 1822.

Ii6 IN ME MORI AM:

minds, he thought it ridiculous to attempt to convert them to his
individual insight and experience by arguments against their indivi-
dual insights and their individual experiences. To his readers in the
closet, and his hearers on the lecture platform, he poured lavishly
out from his intellectual treasury — from the seemingly exhaustless
Fortunatus' purse of his mind — the silver and gold, the pearls,
rubies, amethysts, opals, and diamonds of thought. If his readers
and his audiences chose to pick them up, they were welcome to
them ; but if they conceived that he was deceiving them with sham
jewelry, he would not condescend to explain the laborious pro-
cesses in the mines of meditation by which he had brought the
hidden treasures to light. I never shall forget his curt answer to a
superficial auditor of one of his lectures. The critic was the intel-
lectual busybody of the place, dipping into everything, knowing
nothing, but contriving by his immense loquacity to lead the
opinion of the town. "Now, Mr. Emerson," he said, "I appre-
ciated much of your lecture, but I should like to speak to you of
certain things in it which did not commend my assent and appro-
bation." Emerson turned to him, gave him one of his piercing

looks, and replied, "Mr. if anything I have spoken this

evening met your mood, it is well ; if it did not, I must tell you
that I never argue on these high questions."

Professor Tyndall thus speaks of his reason
for so often quoting Emerson : — " I do so mainly
because in him we have a poet and a profoundly
religious man, who is really and entirely undaunted
by the discoveries of science — past, present, or
prospective. In his case poetry, with the joy of
a bacchanal, takes her graver brother science by
the hand and cheers him with immortal laughter.
By Emerson scientific conceptions are continually
transmuted into the finer forms and warmer hues

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. I17

of an ideal world," " If anyone can be said to have
given the impulse to my mind, it is Emerson ;
whatever I have done, the world owes to him."
It is said that on the fly-leaf of an odd volume
of Emerson's works, accidentally picked up by the
Professor at an old-book stall, and which first made
him acquainted with his writings, are inscribed
these words : " Purchased by inspiration."

Herman Grimm, an accomplished German critic
of Emerson, says: — "I found in his works a sense of
joy and beauty, such as is given by the greatest
books. I found myself made captive by thoughts
which it seemed as if I were hearing for the first
time. When I again read his sentences, the enchant-
ing breezes of hope and spiritual joy fills my soul
anew. The old worn-out machinery of the world is
re-created, and I feel as if I had never breathed so
heavenly an atmosphere. I can indeed say that
no author has had such an influence upon me as
Emerson. The manner of writing of the man,
whom I hold to be the greatest of all living
authors, has revealed to me a new way of express-
ing thought."

The late Dean Stanley concludes a letter about
him in these words :— " Long may Ralph Waldo
Emerson enjoy the influence which superiority gives
over mediocrity, and calm reason over fleeting pas-

iiS IN MEMORIAM:

sion." The impressions of Emerson, received by
Frederika Bremer, and the magic influence he exer-
cised upon her, arc recorded in her " Homes of the
New World," extracts from which will be found at
the end of this volume. Elsewhere she concluded
some remarks on him by saying : — " I believe my-
self to have become greater through his greatness,
stronger through his strength ; and I breathe the
air of a higher sphere in this world, which is in-
describably refreshing to me." In Harriet Mar-
tineau's " Retrospect of Western Travel," 1838, will
be found many pages relating to Emerson, his in-
fluence on the thought of his time even at that early
date, and the expectations that were then entertained
regarding his career. Hawthorne said that his mind
acted on other minds with "wonderful magnetism."
" It was good to meet him in the wood-paths, or
sometimes in our avenue, with that pure intellectual
gleam diffusing about his presence like the garment
of a shining one ; and he, so quiet, so simple, so
without pretension, encountering each man alive as
if expecting to receive more than he would impart,
and, in truth, the heart of many an ordinary man
had, perchance, inscriptions which he could not
read. But it was impossible to dwell in his vicinity
without inhaling more or less the mountain atmos-
phere of his lofty thought."

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 119

Whatever verdict may be pronounced upon
Emerson's opinions, he must be universally regarded
as one who by his teaching and practical example
has done more to make the life of the scholar beau-
tiful, and the career of the man of letters a reproof
to all low aims, and an inspiration to all high ones,
than any other man in America — one might almost
say, in either continent. His greatest service has
been the inculcation of intellectual self-reliance,
of fearless manliness, and absolute sincerity of
thought, — that we should stand morally and intel-
lectually alone ; no prop left but the trust in God.
" We must suffer no fiction to exist for us ; we
must realise all that we know ; in the high refine-
ment of modern life, in arts, in sciences, in books,
in men, we must exact 'good faith, reality and a
purpose, and first, last, midst, and without end, we
must honour every truth by use. . . . What I
must do is all that concerns me, not what people
think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and in
intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction
between greatness and meanness. It is the harder,
because you will always find those who think they
know what is your duty better than you know it.
It is easy in the world to live after the world's
opinion ; it is easy in solitude to live after our own ;
but the great man is he, who, in the midst of the

120 IN MEMORIAM:

crowd, keeps with perfect sweetness the indepen-
dence of solitude."

In an oration delivered before the literary-
societies of Dartmouth College in July, 1838, will
be found the highest expression of his opinion
regarding the duty and aims of the scholar : —

If, with a high trust, he can thus submit himself to the supreme
soul, he will find that ample returns are poured into his bosom, out of
what seemed hours of obstruction and loss. Let him not grieve too
much on account of unfit associates. When he sees how much thought
he owes to the disagreeable antagonism of various persons who pass
and cross him, he can easily think that in a society of perfect
sympathy, no word, no act, no record, would be. He will learn
that it is not much matter what he reads, what he does. Be a
scholar, and he shall have the scholar's part of everything. As, in
the counting room, the merchant cares little whether the cargo be
hides or barilla ; the transaction, a letter of credit or a transfer
of stocks ; be it what it may, his commission comes gently out of
it ; so you shall get your lesson out of the hour, and the object,
whether it be a concentrated or a wasteful employment, even in
reading a dull book, or working off a stint of mechanical day labour,
which your necessities or the necessities of others impose. . . .

Be content with a little light, so it be your own. Explore, and
explore, and explore. Be neither chided nor flattered out of your
position of perpetual inquiry. Neither dogmatize yourself, nor
accept another's dogmatism. Why should you renounce your
right to traverse the star-lit deserts of truth, for the premature com-
forts of an acre, house, or barn? Truth also has its roof, and bed,
and board. Make yourself necessary to the world, and mankind
will give you bread, and if not store of it, yet such as shall not
take away your property in all men's possessions, in all men's
affections, in art, in nature, and in hope. You will not fear that I
am enjoining too stern an asceticism. Ask not, Of what use is a

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. I2i

scholarship that systematically retreats? or Who is the better for
the philosopher who conceals his accomplishments, and hides his
thoughts from the waiting world ? Hides his thoughts ! Hide the
sun and moon. Thought is all light, and publishes itself to the uni-
verse. It will speak, though you were dumb, by its own miraculous
organ. It will flow out of your actions, your manners, and your
face. It will bring you friendships. It will impledge you to truth
by the love and expectation of generous minds. By virtue of the
laws of that Nature, which is one and perfect, it will yield every
sincere good that is in tlie soul, to the scholar beloved of earth
and heaven.

Emerson is also one of the consummate masters
of the English tongue. " His style is in the purest
harmony with the character of his thought. It is
condensed almost to abruptness. There is a
singular beauty and intense life and significance
in his language, which combines the most austere
economy of words, with the determination to load
every word with vital meaning." "His sentences are
often like diamonds. There is no thinker of our day
who, for sentences that have the ring of oracles, can
quite compare with him." " In no other writer are
there so many sentences which complete the sub-
ject, and which will stand, unsupported and alone, as
indications of the author's thought." " No writer
is so quotable. Scarcely a page, especially of the
earlier essays, but supplies some terse and pregnant
saying, worthy to be inscribed in a golden treasury
of portable wisdom." " His sentences score them-

122 IN ME MORI AM:

selves on the brain. Force of statement, the sur-
prise of fitness, the hitting of the nail on the
head — arc the distinguishing characteristics of his
writings." " His pages are laden with aphorisms —
his style of composition is eminently aphoristic —
and they arc so felicitously put, and on such a
variety of themes, that the capturing memory
declines to surrender them, and speedily claims
them as its own. Let him the fit audience find,
though few, and he will illustrate what it is to
speak golden words in that natural style of perfect
sincerity, tenderness, and thoughtfulness, by which
every syllable is conducted straight home to the
faculty it was meant for. For the enunciation of
his own sentences we call him simply a perfect
speaker. The manner fits the matter as if cut out
for it from eternity."

Theodore Parker, in one of the best critical
papers on Emerson that has appeared, written in
1849, says : — " He is the most republican of repub-
licans, the most protestant of dissenters. His
culture is cosmopolitan. He trusts himself, trusts
man, and trusts God. He has confidence in all
the attributes of Infinity. Hence he is serene ;
nothing disturbs the even poise of his character,
and he walks erect. Nothing impedes him in his
search for the true, the lovely, and the good ; no

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 123

private hope, no private fear, no love of wife or
child or gold or ease or fame. He has not written
a line which is not conceived in the interest of
mankind. He never writes in the interest of a
section, of a party, of a church, of a man, but
always in the interest of mankind. No faithful
man is too low for his approval and encourage-
ment ; no faithless man too high and popular for
his rebuke. To no English writer, since Milton,
can be assigned so high a place ; even Milton him-
self, great genius though he was, and great architect
of beauty, has not added so many thoughts to the
treasury of the race ; no, nor been the author of
so much loveliness. Emerson is a man of genius
such as does not often appear ; such as has never
appeared before in America, and but seldom in
the world. He learns from all sorts of men ; but
no English writer, we think, is so original. His
style is one of the rarest beauty. It is simple,
without imitation, unique and robust. It is manly,
pure, direct and thoroughly natural, and he has
the remarkable power of saying precisely and
exactly the thing he means."

Mr. J. B. Crozier, in "The Religion of the Future,"
thus ably summarises his opinion of Emerson : —
" There is, perhaps, no writer of the nineteenth cen-
tury who will better repay a careful and prolonged

124 IN MEMORIAM:

perusal than Emerson. He enjoys the rare distinc-
tion of having ascended to the highest point to which
the human mind can climb, — to the point where, as
he says of Plato, the poles of thought are on a line
with the axis on which the frame of things revolves.
. . . We can turn to him, with the same delight
for the philosophical expression of the deep laws
of human life, as we do to Shakespeare for their
dramatic representation. For he is one of the pro-
foundest of thinkers, and has that universality,
serenity, and cosmopolitan breadth of comprehen-
sion, that place him among the great of all ages.
He has swallowed all his predecessors, and con-
verted them into nutriment for himself. He is as
subtle and delicate, too, as he is broad and massive,
and possesses a practical wisdom and keenness of
observation that hold his feet fast to the solid earth
when his head is striking the stars. His scientific
accuracy and freedom of speculation mark him out
as one of the representative men of the nineteenth
century."

It would be out of place in a biographical sketch
like the present to attempt to explain Emerson's
philosophy. He has, in fact, propounded no system.
Those who read his works in the hope of finding a
theological or philosophical system will be disap-
pointed. Strictly, he is not the founder of any

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 125

school, but has furnished the foundation stones of
many schools. He beholds and reports all, be it
secular or sacred. He trustingly accepts what
comes " to the open sense and the waiting mind."
If he has not discovered the secret of the universe,
he tells frankly what he finds as a perceiver or
observer, and constantly endeavours to place him-
self in harmony with the Most High. He seeks to
solve the riddle of the universe for himself, and is
content with no traditionary answer. He insists on
man's individuality, and protests against the
merging of our separate beings into indolent con-
formity with a majority. His faith in God, in spiri-
tual laws, in the moral order of the universe, never
leaves him. This faith saturates and vitalizes all that
he has written. With him the spiritual is the real.
His own words on this subject are full of deepest
import. " That which is signified by the words
moral and spiritual is a lasting essence, and, with
whatever illusions we have loaded them, will cer-
tainly bring back the words age after age to their
ancient meaning. I know no words that mean so
much. In our definitions we grope after the spiri-
tual by describing it as invisible. The true meaning
of spiritual is real, that law which executes itself,
which works without means, and which cannot be
conceived as not existing."

126 IN MEMO RI AM:

Emerson has been called a Transcendentalist ;
but he never adopted the name. " In the sense
that Socrates and Plato, and the fathers of the
Stoic school, and Paul and the apostles, and
Luther, and the saints and martyrs of the Christian
Church, and all the great poets, painters, sculptors,
and musicians, have been, and will be to the end of
time, Transcendentalists, — Emerson, too, was one.
For Transcendentalism is essentially neither more
nor less than Idealism — Spiritualism — in its best
and highest meaning. The Transcendentalist be-
lieves in what transcends the senses ; he believes in
inspiration, flowing ever fresh and pure from the
Infinite Source of all wisdom and power; he believes
in the human soul, its power, its divine lineage, and
its high destiny. He values the past, but he values
more the present, and, most of all, the future, — that
great promised land of all our hopes. He does not
believe that all truth is enshrined in any book, or
any institution, for he holds that man is always
greater than his achievements, and God infinitely
greater than either our memory or our comprehen-
sion."* Emerson neither dogmatizes nor defines.
His chief anxiety seems to be to avoid committing
himself to opinions, to keep all questions open, to
close no avenue in any direction to the free ingress

* "The Harvard Magazine," April, 1855.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 127

of the mind. " He will not be questioned ; not
because he doubts, but because his convictions are so
rich, so various and many-sided, that he is unwilling,
by laying emphasis on any one of them, to do an
apparent injustice to the others. He will be held to
no definition ; he will be seduced to no final state-
ments. The mind must have free range. He dwells
in principles, and will not be cabined in beliefs."*
" Those who, amid declining creeds or institutions,
can only repeat the plaintive parrot-cry, What is to
be put in its place ? will have to unlearn some-
\- thing before they can gain the secret of Emerson."
His own words will be the most fit conclusion
to this fragmentary summary of his ideas of Truth
and Duty: " Let a man know his worth, and keep
things under his feet. Beneath opinions, habits,
customs, is the spirit of a man. The one thing in
the world of value is the soul, — free, sovereign,
active. Man shall be true to himself, let the world
say what it will. The truly religious mind will
find beauty and necessary facts, — in the shop and
the mill. Proceeding from a religious heart, it will
raise to a divine use the railroad, the insurance
office, the telegraph, the chemist's retort, — in which
we now seek only an economic use. The end and
aim of life is not to assert ourselves, but by indivi-

* O. B. Frothingham's "Transcendentalism in New England."

128 IN MEMO RI AM:

dual faithfulness to become fit recipients of the
Divine Mind, so as to live in thoughts and act
with energies which are immortal. The greatest
philosopher is but the listener of simple faithful-
ness ; and the loftiest wisdom is gained when self
is forgotten in communion with God. Let man
thus learn the revelation of all nature and all
thought to his heart ; this, namely, that the
Highest dwelleth with him ; and that the sources
of Nature are in his own mind. Therefore, let
it not be recorded, that in this moment of the
Eternity, when we who were named by our names,
flitted across the light, we were afraid of any fact,
or disgraced the fair day by a pusillanimous
preference of our bread to our freedom. What
is the scholar, what is the man foi\ but for hospi-
tality to every new thought of his time ? Have you
leisure, power, property, friends ? you shall be the
asylum and patron of every new thought, every
unproven opinion, every untried project, which pro-
ceeds out of goodwill and honest seeking. All the
newspapers, all the tongues of to-day will of course
at first defame what is noble ; but you who hold not
of to-day, not of the times, but of the Everlasting,
are to stand for it ; and the highest compliment
Man ever receives from Heaven, is the sending to
him its disguised and discredited angels."

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 129

Those who have felt throughout their lives the
purifying and elevating power of this great man's
writings, and who have recognised in his inspiring
career the perfect sanity of true genius, can never
think of him without affectionate reverence. He
now rests, in that deep repose which he has so
well earned, and beneath laurels that will never
fade.

#

THE FUNERAL.

The last rites over the remains of Ralph Waldo
Emerson took place at Concord on the 30th of
April. A special train from Boston carried a largc^n
number of people. Many persons were on the
street, attracted by the services, but were unable
to gain admission to the church where the public
ceremonies were held. Almost every building in
town bore over its entrance door a large black and
white rosette with other sombre draperies. The
public buildings were heavily draped, and even the
homes of the very poor bore outward marks of grief
at the loss of their friend and fellow-townsman.

The services at the house, which were strictly
private, occurred at 2-30, and were conducted by
Rev. W. H. Furness, of Philadelphia. They were
simple in character, and only Mr. Furness took
part. The body lay in the front north-east room,
in which were gathered the family and close friends
of the deceased. The only flowers were contained

THE FUNERAL. 131

in three vases on the mantel, and were lilies of the
valley, red and white roses, and arbutus. The
adjoining room and hall were filled with friends
and neighbours.

The poet's wife and daughter Ellen sat near
the coffin. Dr. Furness occupied a position in the
passage-way, and made a brief and touching
address, saying that the peaceful face lying before
them only indicated a like quiet of soul within,
and reflected the peace and purity of the soul
while it yet tenanted the body. He then recited
Tennyson's " Deserted Home," and repeated from
Longfellow words read at that poet's own funeral,
a few weeks ago. Appropriate quotations from
Scripture followed.

The procession was then formed for the public
services at the Unitarian Church, which is but a
short distance from the house. The Concord
Social Circle led the way, then followed the hearse
and pall-bearers : — his son. Dr. Edward Waldo
Emerson; and his nephews, Charles Emerson and
Haven Emerson; Wm: H. Forbes, his son-in-law;
J. Eliott Cabot, his designated biographer; Prof.
James B. Thayer, of Harvard Law School; Mr.
Ralph Forbes, and Mr. W. Thayer, all relatives of
the deceased, and following them were a few car-
riages with the family and intimate friends, among

132 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

whom were Oliver Wendell Holmes, G. W. Curtis,
President Eliot, of Harvard College; Professors
Norton, Pierce, Horsford, and Hills, of Cambridge;
Mrs. J. T. Fields, representatives of the Boston
publishing houses, and many others.

At the church many hundreds of persons were
awaiting the arrival of the procession, and all the
space, except the reserved pews, was packed.
In front of the pulpit were simple decorations,
boughs of pine covered the desk, and in their
centre was a harp of yellow jonquils, the gift of
Miss Louisa M. Alcott. Other floral tributes were
an open volume, upon one page on white ground
the word " Finis" in blue flowers. This was from
the teachers and scholars in the Emerson School.
By the sides of the pulpit were white and scarlet
geraniums and pine boughs, and high upon the
wall a laurel wreath.

Before 3-30 the pall-bearers brought in the
plain black walnut coffln, which was placed before
the pulpit. The lid was turned back and upon it
was put a cluster of richly coloured pansies and
a small bouquet of roses. While the coffln was
being carried in, " Pleyel's Hymn " was rendered
on the organ by request of the family of the
deceased. Dr. James Freeman Clarke then entered
the pulpit. Judge E. Rockwood Hoar remained

THE FUNERAL. 133

by the coffin below, and when the congregation
became quiet made a brief and pathetic address, his
voice many times trembling with emotion.

Mr, Hoar began his tribute with the words :
" The beauty of Israel is fallen in its high place."
He then spoke of the world-wide sorrow felt at the
poet's death and of the special veneration and grief
of the townspeople, who considered him their own.
" There is nothing to mourn for. That brave and
manly life was rounded out to the full length of
days ; that dying pillow was softened by the
sweetest domestic affection, and as he lay down to
the sleep which the Lord giveth His beloved, his
face was as the face of a child and seemed to give
a glimpse of the opening heavens. Wherever the
English language is spoken throughout the world
his fame is established and secured ; from beyond
the sea and throughout this great land will come
innumerable voices of sorrow for this great public
loss. But we, his neighbours and townsmen, feel
that he was ours ; he was descended from the
founders of the town ; he chose our village for the
place in which his life-long work was to be done ;
it was to our fields and orchards that his presence
gave such value ; it was in our streets that children
looked up to him with love, and the elders with
reverence ; he was our ornament and pride. The

134 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

lofty brow, the home of all wise thoughts and
aspirations ; those lips of eloquent n:iusic ; that
great soul, which, trusting in God, never lost its
hope of immortality ; that great heart, to which
everything was welcome that belonged to man ;
that impressible nature, loving and tender and
generous, having no repulsion or scorn for any-
thing but meanness and baseness ; our friend,
brother, father, lover, teacher, inspirer, guide, is
gone. There is no more that we can do now than
to give this our hail and farewell !"

Judge Hoar's remarks were followed by the
congregation singing the hymns " Thy will be
done," " I will not fear the fate provided by Thy
love." The Rev. Mr. Furncss then read selections
from the Scriptures.

The Rev. James Freeman Clarke then delivered
the following address : —

This assembly has come together not only to testify its respect for
one of the greatest thinkers and writers of our time, but also it is
drawn to this place by gratitude for the strength, help, and inspira-
tion which has been given to us through the mediation of this noble
soul. It is not for me, it is not for this hour, to say what ought to
be said of the genius which has kindled the fires of thought in two
continents. The present moments belong to reverential love. We
thank God here for the influences which have made us all better.
The voice now hushed never spoke but to lift us to a higher plane
of generous sentiment. The hand now still never wrote except to
take us out of " our dreary routine of sense, worldliness, and sin,"

THE FUNERAL. 135

into communion with whatever is noblest, purest, highest. By the
side of this revered form, we thank God that through all these years
we have been made better by his words and his life. He has been
a preacher of righteousness to this and other lands. When he left
the pulpit, he said, in his farewell sermon, that he did not relinquish
his profession, — that he hoped, whatever was his work, to be still a
teacher of God's truth. How well has he kept that promise ! Ncv
one can say, till the day of judgment declares it, how large a part of
the genuine faith in the things not seen but eternal has come to us
from the depths of his spiritual insight. He was one of God's seers ;
and he was sent to us at a time like the one of which it is written,
' ' The Word of the Lord was precious in those days : there was no
open vision." Men lived by past inspirations, with no faith in the
possibility of any new revelation to the soul of the divine will. No
doubt they did well to resort to the words of ancient prophets until
the day should dawn and the day-star arise in their own hearts.
That day dawned anew when the sight of the divine truth kindled a
light in the solemn eyes of Channing and created a new power
which spoke from the lips of Emerson. Yet the young and hopeful
listened with joy to this morning song, they looked gladly to this
auroral light. When the little book " Nature " was published, it
seemed to some of us a new revelation. Mr. Emerson then said
what has been the text of his life, " Let the single man plant him-
self on his instincts, and the great world will come round to him."
He did not reply to his critics. He went on his way. And to-day
we see that the world has come round to him. He is the preacher
of spiritual truth to our age. We understand through him what
Jesus meant when he said, " You must eat my flesh and drink my
blood." Our souls have been fed by his life. We have been
nourished by his character more than by his words. He has been
bread and wine to us — the bread of strength, the wine of joy.

The saying of the liturgy is true and wise, that " in the midst of
life we are in death." But it is still more true that "in the midst of
death we are in life." Do we ever believe so much in immortality
as when we look on such a dear and noble face, now so still, which
a few hours ago was radiant with thought and love? "He is not

136 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

here : he is risen." That power which we knew, — that soaring intel-
ligence, that soul of fire, that ever-advancing spirit, — that cannot
have been suddenly annihilated with the decay of these earthly
organs. It has left its darkened dust behind. It has outsoared the
shadow of our night. God does not trifle with his creatures by
bringing to nothing the ripe fruit of the ages by the lesion of a cere-
bral cell or some bodily tissue. Life does not die, but matter dies
off from it. The highest energy we know, the soul of man, the
unit in which meet intelligence, imagination, memory, hope, love,
purpose, insight, — this agent of immense resource and boundless
power, — this has not been subdued by its instrument. When we
think of such an one as he, we can only think of life, never of death.

Such was his own faith, as expressed in his paper on Immortality.
But he himself was the best argument for immortality. Like the
greatest thinkers, he did not rely on logical proof, but on the higher
evidence of universal instincts, — the vast streams of belief which flow
through human thought like currents in the ocean ; those shoreless
rivers which for ever roll along their paths in the Atlantic and
Pacific, not restrained by banks, but guided by the revolutions of
the globe and the attractions of the sun.

Mr. Emerson stated such indications of immortality as these :
That all great natures love stability and permanence. *' Everything
here," he says, " is prospective." " The mind delights in immense
time." " We are not interested in anything which ends." "All I
have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for w^hat I have not seen."
"All the ways of virtuous living lead upwards and not downwards."

In his "Threnody" he shows us how the Deep Heart said to

him : —

" When the scanty shores are full

With Thought's perilous, whirling pool ;

WTien frail Nature can be more.

Then the spirit strikes the hour ;

My servant Death, with solving rite,

Pours finite into infinite."

There are few who remain who remember the beginnings of this
long progress. The first time I saw him I went with Margaret

THE FUNERAL. 137

Fuller to hear him preach in the church on Hanover-street. Neither
of us then knew him. We sat in the gallery, and felt that a new
influence, sweet and strong, had come. Then I recall his kindness,
after I came to have his acquaintance, and how he gave me to print
in a Western magazine four of his early poems, the first ever printed.
Next, I think of the group which always collected at his lectures,
ever the same persons, those who came to be fed, and never went
away hungry. After that were the days of the Transcendental Club,
which we called the " Like-minded," — I suppose because no two of
us thought alike. One summer afternoon we came to Concord and
had one meeting in his parlour. There was George Ripley,
admirable talker, most genial of men; and Orestes A. Brownson,
full of intelligence, courage, and industry, who soon went over into
the Roman Catholic Church; and James Walker, of whom Mr.
Emerson once said to me, "I have come to Boston to hear Dr.
Walker thunder this evening;" Theodore Parker, and many others.
Days of enthusiasm and youthful hope, when the world seemed so
new and fair, life so precious, when new revelations were close at
hand as we thought, and some new Plato or Shakespeare was about
to appear. We dwelt in what Halleck calls "the dear charm of
life's illusive dream ;" and the man who had the largest hope of all,
yet joined with the keenest eye to detect every fallacy, was Ralph
Waldo Emerson. We looked to him as our master. And now the
■zaor/d calls him its master — in insight, judgment, charm of speech,
unfailing courage, endless aspiration. We say of him as Goethe of
Schiller: — " Lo, he went onward, ever onward, for all these years, —
then, indeed, he had gone far enough for this earth. For care is
taken that trees shall not grow up to heaven." His work, like that
of the apostle, was accomplished by the quantity of soul that was in
him, — not by mere power of intellect, but "by pureness, by know-
ledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Spirit, by love
unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the armour of righteousness on
the right hand and the left."

Let us then ponder his words : —

"Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know
What rainbows teach and sunsets show?

138 RALPH WALDO EMERSON

Voice of earth to earth returned,
Prayers of saints that inly burned,
Saying, What is excellent,
As God lives, is permanent ;
Hearts are dust, hearts'' loves remain ;
Hearts' love will meet thee again.

• ••••■•

House and tenant go to ground.
Lost in God, in Godhead found."

After the above address a feeling prayer was
offered by Rev. Howard M. Brown, of Brook-
line, and the benediction closed the exercises in
the church. Immediately before the benediction,
Mr. Alcott recited the following sonnet which he
had written for the occasion.

His harp is silent : shall successors rise,
Touching with venturous hand the trembling string.
Kindle glad raptures, visions of surprise,
And wake to ecstasy each slumbering thing ?
Shall life and thought flash new in wondering eyes.
As when the seer transcendent, sweet, and wise.
World-wide his native melodies did sing,
Flushed with fair hopes and ancient memories ?
Ah, no ! That matchless lyre shall silent lie :
None hath the vanished minstrel's wondrous skill
To touch that instrument with art and will.
With him, winged poesy doth droop and die ;
While our dull age, left voiceless, must lament
The bard high heaven had for its service sent.

Over an hour was occupied by the passing files
of neighbours, friends, and visitors looking for the
last time upon the face of the dead poet. The

THE FUNERAL. 139

body was robed completely in white, and the face
bore a natural and peaceful expression. From
the church the procession took its way to the
cemetery. The grave was made beneath a tall
pine tree upon the hill top to the east of Sleepy
Hollow, where lie the bodies of his friends Thoreau
and Hawthorne, the upturned sod being concealed
by strewings of pine boughs. A border of hem-
lock spray surrounded the grave and completely
lined its sides. The services here were very brief
and the casket was soon lowered to its final resting
place.

The Rev. Dr. Haskins, a cousin of the family, an
Episcopal clergyman, read the Episcopal burial
service, and closed with the Lord's Prayer, ending
at the words "and deliver us from evil." In this
all the people joined. Dr. Haskins then pro-
nounced the benediction. After it was over the
grandchildren passed by the open grave and threw
flowers into it.

RECOLLECTIONS

OF

Emerson's Visits to England in

1847-8, AND 1872-3.

1833,

It was in the month of August, 1833 — nearly
fifty years ago — that I had the singular good for-
tune to make the acquaintance of Mr. Emerson,
and to enjoy the privilege of several days' inter-
course with him. I was then residing in Edin-
burgh, my native city, and he was on his way
home, after his first visit to Europe. He had with
him a letter of introduction to a friend of mine,
who, luckily for me, was then so much engaged in
professional duties, that he was unable to spare even
a few hours to do the honours of the old Scottish
metropolis ; so the young American traveller was
handed over to me, and I thus became "an enter-
tainer of angels unawares." In those early days
Mr. Emerson was about thirty years of age, and

RECOLLECTIONS. 141

his name was then utterly unknown in the world
of letters ; for the period to which I refer was
anterior, by several years, to his delivery of those
remarkable addresses which took by surprise the
most thoughtful of his countrymen, as well as of
cultivated English readers. Neither had he pub-
lished any of those addresses or essays which after-
wards stamped him as the most original thinker in
America.

On Sunday, the i8th of August, 1833, I heard
him deliver a discourse in the Unitarian Chapel,
Young Street, Edinburgh, and I remember dis-
tinctly the effect which it produced on his hearers.
It is almost needless to say that nothing like it
had ever been heard by them before, and many
of them did not know what to make of it. The
originality of his thoughts, the consummate
beauty of the language in which they were clothed,
the calm dignity of his bearing, the absence of all
oratorical effort, and the singular directness and
simplicity of his manner, free from the least shadow
of dogmatic assumption, made a deep impression
on me. Not long before this I had listened to a
wonderful sermon by Dr. Chalmers, whose force, and
energy, and vehement, but rather turgid eloquence
carried, for the moment, all before them — his
audience becoming like clay in the hands of the

142 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

potter.* But I must confess that the pregnant
thoughts and serene self-possession of the young
Boston minister had a greater charm for me than
all the rhetorical splendours of Chalmers, His
voice was the sweetest, the most winning and pene-
trating of any I ever heard ; nothing like it have I
listened to since.

That music in our hearts we bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

We visited together the courts of law and other
places of interest to a stranger, and ascended Black-
ford Hill, which commands a fine view of the city
from the south. There were thus good oppor-
tunities for conversation. He spoke on many
subjects connected with life, society, and literature,
and with an affluence of thought and fulness of
knowledge which surprised and delighted me. I
had never before met with any one of so fine and
varied a culture and with such frank sincerity of
speech. There was a graciousness and kind en-
couragement, too, in his manner, inexpressibly
winning to one so much younger than himself;
and it was with a feeling almost akin to reverence
that I listened to and drank in his high thoughts

* "His tones in preaching would rise to the piercingly pathetic —
no preacher ever went so into one's heart. ... I suppose there
will never again be such a preacher in any Christian Church." —
^' Carlyle's Reminiscences," Vol. i, p. i6o.

RECOLLECTIONS. 143

and ripe wisdom. A refined and delicate courtesy,
a kind of mental hospitality, so to speak, — the
like of which, or anything approaching to which, I
have never encountered, — seemed to be a part of
his very nature, and inseparable from his " daily
walk and conversation." It was not therefore extra-
ordinary,— rather quite a natural result, — that the
impression produced on me was intense and lasting.
It is with a feeling of something like pride
that I find recorded, in a journal kept at the time,
some memoranda of that brief intercourse, written
in a strain of youthful, enthusiastic admiration, and
of perfectly confident expectancy as to his future —
a strain which might at that time have sounded
unduly inflated, but which his subsequent career
may be said to have rendered almost tame and
inadequate. He spoke much about Coleridge,
whom he had just visited at Highgate. I hap-
pened then to be reading the prose works of that
writer, and these formed a fruitful topic of conversa-
tion. He spoke of his "Friend" and "Biographia
Literaria" as containing many admirable passages
for young thinkers, many valuable advices regard-
ing the pursuit of truth and the right methods to
be adopted in its investigation, and the importance
of having precise and correct notions on moral and
intellectual subjects. He considered that there

144 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. j

were single sentences in these two works, which
embodied clearer ideas of some of the most subtle
of human speculations than are to be met with in
the pages of any other thinker. " Let no one,
however, expect in these books of Coleridge's any- '-
thing strictly symmetrical. The works themselves j
are disjointed, inconsecutive, and totally destitute of
all regularity and plan. As Hazlitt, with his usual
acuteness, well said of them — ' They are vast
prefaces and projects preliminary to immense pro-
ductions which he was always contemplating, but |
could never bring himself to execute.' " He spoke
of Dr. Channing, Sir James Mackintosh, Goethe's
"Wilhelm Meister," and Charles Cotton's translation
of Montaigne's " Essays," which he regarded as ]
matchless among translations. " After reading
Cotton's racy English," he said, " Montaigne seems
to lose, if you look into him in the original old I
French." He also spoke of the excellence of Sir I
Thos. Urquhart's translation of Rabelais.

I find that in an essay on " Books," published in '
i860, he says that he prefers reading the ancients I
in translation. It was a tenet of Goethe's that ;

1

whatever is really valuable in any work is trans- j

lateable. " I should as soon think," says he, " of !

swimming across Charles River when I want to go ;

to Boston, as of reading all my books in originals, \

RECOLLECTIONS. 145

when I have them rendered for me in my mother
tongue." After Bohn's volumes of translations of
the Classics made their appearance, he held that
they had done for literature what railroads have
done for international intercourse.

Some of Walter Savage Landor's " Imaginary
Conversations" he greatly admired — particularly
those between Bacon and Richard Hooker, Sir
Isaac Newton and Isaac Barrow, and Diogenes and
Plato. He had visited Landor in Florence some
time before. Emerson, long afterwards, said that
he had made Landor's "Imaginary Conversations"
his companion for more than twenty years, and
publicly expressed his gratitude to him for having
afforded a resource that had never failed him in
solitude. " I have but to recur to its rich and
ample page to find always free and sustained
thought, a keen and precise understanding, an
affluent and ready memory familiar with all
chosen books, an industrious observation in every
department of life, an experience to which it might
seem that nothing had occurred in vain, honour
for every just and generous sentiment, and a
scourge like that of the Furies for any oppressor
whether public or private." He felt how dignified
was that perpetual Censor in his curule chair, and
he wished to thank so great a benefactor. " Mr.
K

146 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Landor," he continued, " is one of the foremost of
that small class who make good in the nineteenth
century the claims of pure literature. In these
days of avarice and ambition, when there is so
little disposition to profound thought, or to any
but the most superficial intellectual entertainment,
a faithful scholar, receiving from past ages the
treasures of wit, and enlarging them by his own
love, is a friend and consoler of mankind. . . .
His acquaintance with the English tongue is unsur-
passed. ... Of many of Mr, Landor's sentences
we are fain to remember what was said of those of
Socrates, that they are cubes which will stand firm,
place them how or where you will."

Although not an admirer of the Utilitarian philo-
sophy, he had met with Dr. Bowring in London, and
had some of Jeremy Bentham's hair and a scrap of
his handwriting. He asked me if I was in the habit
of writing down my thoughts. I said I was not ;
that reading was my greatest pleasure and solace —
labornni dulce leninien. " I advise }^ou," said he,
" and other young men, to write down your ideas.
I have found my benefit in it. It fixes more firmly
in your mind what you know, and what you have
acquired, and reveals to you unerringly which of
your ideas are vague, and which solid." Of De
Ouincey, Wordsworth, and Carlyle he spoke many

RECOLLECTIONS. I47

times— especially Carlyle, of whom he expressed
the warmest admiration. Some of his articles in
the " Edinburgh Review" and "Foreign Quarterly
Review" had much struck him— one particularly,
entitled " Characteristics " — and the concluding
passages of another on German Literature, regard-
ing which he was desirous of speaking to the
author. He wished much to meet both Carlyle and
Wordsworth : " Am I, who have hung over their
works in my chamber at home, not to see -these
men in the flesh, and thank them, and interchange
some thoughts with them, when I am passing their
very doors ?" He spoke of Carlyle's "rich thoughts,
and rare, noble glimpses of great truths, his struggles
to reveal his deepest inspirations, — not all at once
very apparent, but to be digged out, as it were,
reverently and patiently from his writings." There
was great and, I remember, almost insuperable
difficulty in ascertaining where Mr. Carlyle then
lived, and I well remember the pains Mr. Emer-
son took to get the information ; at last, it was
obtained from the secretary to the University. " I
will be sure to send you, before sailing, an account
of my visit to Carlyle and Wordsworth, if I should
be fortunate enough to see them." Accordingly,
in faithful fulfilment of his promise, he wrote me a
long and most interesting letter on the 30th of

148 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

August, 1833, from Liverpool, giving an account
of the interviews he had with both of them. These
interviews he has described in his "Engh'sh Traits,"
published twcnt}'-threc years afterwards, and the)'
must be well known to the readers of that best of
all books on England.

He found that Carlyle had heard of his purpose
to visit him from a friend, and, on his arrival, he
insisted on dismissing the gig which had been hired
to carry him from Dumfries to Craigenputtock—
a distance of sixteen or seventeen miles. It was
therefore sent back, to return the next day, in
time for him to secure his seat in the evening coach
for the south. So he spent nearly twenty-four hours
with Carlyle and his accomplished wife, who were
living in perfect solitude among some desolate hills
in the parish of Dunscore — not a person to speak
to within seven miles. Here are his words, from
the letter referred to — " I found him one of the most
simple and frank of men, and became acquainted
with him at once. We walked over several miles
of hills, and talked upon all the great questions that
interest us most. The comfort of meeting a man
of genius is that he speaks sincerely ; that he feels
himself to be so rich, that he is above the meanness
of pretending to knowledge which he has not, and
Carlyle does not pretend to have solved the great

RECOLLECTIONS. 149

problems, but rather to be an observer of their
solution as it goes forward in the world. I asked
him at what religious development the concluding
passage in his piece in the 'Edinburgh Review'
upon German literature (say five years ago), and
some passages in the piece called ' Characteristics,'
pointed ? He replied that he was not competent
to state it even to himself — he waited rather to see.
My own feeling was that I had met with men of
far less power who had got greater insight into
religious truth.* He is, as you might guess from
his papers, the most catholic of philosophers ; he
forgives and loves everybody, and wishes each to
struggle on in his own place and arrive at his
own ends. But his respect for eminent men, or
rather his scale of eminence, is about the reverse
of the popular scale. Scott, Mackintosh, Jeffrey,
Gibbon — even Bacon — are no heroes of his ;
stranger yet, he hardly admires Socrates, the glory
of the Greek world — but Burns, and Samuel
Johnson, and Mirabeau, he said interested him,
and I suppose whoever else has given himself with
all his heart to a leading instinct, and has not cal-
culated too much. But I cannot think of sketching

* Emerson, in his more elaborate account of this interview, pub-
lished in his "English Traits" twenty-three years later, has no
remark embodying the substance of this sentence.

I50 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

even his opinions, or repeating his conversations
here. I will cheerfully do it when you visit me
in America. He talks finely, seems to love the
broad Scotch, and I loved him very much at once.
I am afraid he finds his entire solitude tedious, but
I could not help congratulating him upon his
treasure in his wife, and I hope he will not leave
the moors ; 'tis so much better for a man of letters
to nurse himself in seclusion than to be filed down
to the common level by the compliances and
imitations of city society. And you have found
out the virtues of solitude, I remember, with much
pleasure."

The third day afterwards, Mr. Emerson called
on Wordsworth at Rydal Mount, and was cordially
received, the poet reckoning up all his American
acquaintance. Here is his description of the in-
terview : — " He had very much to say about the
evils of superficial education, both in this country
and in mine. He thinks that the intellectual tuition
of society is going on, out of all proportion, faster
than its moral training, which last is essential to
all education. He does not wish to hear of schools
of tuition ; it is the education of circumstances
which he values, and much more to this point.
He says that he is not in haste to publish more
poetry, for many reasons, but that what he has

RECOLLECTIONS. 151

written will be at some time given to the world.
He led me out into a walk in his grounds, where
he said many thousands of his lines were com-
posed, and repeated to me three beautiful sonnets,
which he had just finished, upon the occasion of
his recent visit to Fingal's Cave, at Staffa. I hope
he will print them speedily. The third is a gem.
He was so benevolently anxious to impress upon
me my social duties as an American citizen, that
he accompanied me near a mile from his house,
talking vehemently, and ever and anon stopping
short to imprint his words. I noted down some
of these when I got to my inn, and you may see
them in Boston, Massachusetts, when you will. I
enjoyed both my visits highly, and shall always
esteem your Britain very highly in love for its
wise and good men's sake. I remember with
much pleasure my visit to Edinburgh, and my
short acquaintance with yourself and your good
parents. It will give me very great pleasure to
hear from you, to know your thoughts. Every
man that ever was born has some that are peculiar.
Present my respects to your father and family. —
Your friend and servant, R. Waldo Emerson."

So much with regard to Mr. Emerson's first
visit to England. As every one knows, his name,
in a very few years, became celebrated in his own

152 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

country, exercising a remarkable influence on
thoughtful minds.

Mr. Carlyle edited Emerson's first series of
Essays published in this country in 1841, and in
his preface* introduced him to English readers,
speaking of him with high appreciation, as a
" spiritual notability." " The name of Ralph Emer-
son is not entirely new in England ; distinguished
travellers bring us tidings of such a man ; fractions
of his writings have found their way into the hands
of the curious here. . . . That an educated man,
of good gifts and opportunities, after looking at the
public arena, and even trying, not with ill success,
what its tasks and its prizes might amount to, should
retire for long years into rustic obscurity ; and
amid the all-pervading jingle of dollars and loud
chaffering of ambitions and promotions, should
quietly, with cheerful deliberateness, sit down to
spend Jiis life, not in Mammon worship, or the
hunt for reputation, influence, place, or any out-
ward advantage whatsoever : this, when we get a
notice of it, is a thing worth noting."

The publication, in England, of this and the
second series of essays, which took place a year or
two later, made his name widely known throughout

■* The reader is referred to p. 39 of this vohime for extracts from

Carlyle's Preface.

RECOLLECTIONS. 153

Great Britain, and men of thought recognised in
him an intellectual leader. Many of his friends
were desirous that he should come to England,
and deliver courses of lectures similar to those he
had given with such signal success in various cities
of the United States. In this desire I warmly-
shared. In the autumn of 1846, a very favourable
opportunity presented itself of sending a message
to him by a common friend — Mr. Lloyd Garrison —
who was then sailing from Liverpool to Boston, and
who promised to deliver it himself, I gladly availed
myself of the occasion, and on the spur of the
moment, just before the ship steamed out of the
Mersey, I wrote a hasty note in pencil, urging
him to entertain the project of a lengthened visit
to England, and which should embrace the delivery
of lectures in the chief towns of the kingdom.
That he might be freed from all irksome correspon-
dence in connection with such a project, I gladly
offered to undertake all the necessary business
arrangements. Before long I received a reply,
which was more favourable than I expected. It
was full of kind words and reminiscences. " Your
suggestion is new and unlooked for, yet opens
to me at once so many flattering possibilities,
that I shall cheerfully entertain it, and perhaps
we may both see it ripen one day to a fact.

154 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Certainly it would be much more practicable and
pleasing to me to answer an invitation than to
come into your cities and challenge an audience."
Some months later (28th February, 1847) he
wrote : — " I owe you new thanks for your friendly
and earnest attention to the affair of Lectures which
you have put me on, but I had not anticipated so
prompt an execution of the project as you suggest.
Certainly I cannot think of it for April (1847). For
September I will think of it, but cannot at present
fix anything. I really have not the means of
forming an opinion of the expediency of such an
attempt. I feel no call to make a visit of literary
propagandism in England. All my impulses to
work of that kind would rather employ me at home.
It would be still more unpleasingto me to put upon
a few friends the office of collecting an audience for
me, by much advertisement and coaxing. At the
same time it would be very agreeable to me to
accept any good invitation to read lectures from
institutions, or from a number of friendly individuals
who sympathised with my studies. But though I
possess a good many decisive tokens of interest
in my pursuits and way of thinking from sundry
British men and women, they are widely sundered
persons, and my belief is that in no one city, except
perhaps in London, could I find any numerous

RECOLLECTIONS, 155

company to whom my name was favourably known.
If I were younger, it would give me great pleasure
to come to England and collect my own audience,
as I have done at home here ; and I have that con-
fidence in my favourite topics and in my own habits,
that I should undertake the affair without the least
distrust. But perhaps my ambition does not give
to a success of this kind that importance it has had
for me. At all events, in England I incline rather
to take than to give the challenge. So that you
see my project requires great frankness on your
part. You must not suffer your own friendly feel-
ings to give the smallest encouragement to the
design. . . . You inquire what are the rates
of remuneration of lecturers here. ... I am
glad to hear what you tell me of your employments
and position. I doubt not life has taught and
is teaching us both one lesson. It would be strange,
but most agreeable to me, to renew again our brief
yet never-forgotten acquaintance of thirteen or
fourteen years ago in Edinburgh. — With ever
kindest regards."

It was quite characteristic of Mr. Emerson to
under-estimate the extent to which his name was
known and his writings appreciated in England.
No sooner was it announced that he had decided
to revisit this country and to read lectures, than

156 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

(as has been stated at p. 48) applications from
every part of the kingdom began to flow in, and
in many cases it was found impossible to comply
with the wishes of the requisitionists, from a
fear of committing him to engagements which
might have become burdensome to him. Speaking
of the occasion of his second visit to England in
" English Traits," he says : — " I did not go very
willingly. I am not a good traveller, nor have I
found that long journeys yield a fair share of
reasonable hours. But the invitation was repeated
and pressed at a moment of more leisure, and
when I was a little spent by some unusual studies.
I wanted a change and a tonic, and England was
proposed to me. Besides, there were, at least, the
dread attraction and salutary influences of the sea,
so I took my berth in the packet ship, ' Washington
Irving,' and sailed from Boston on Tuesday, 5th
October, 1847."

His friend Carlyle was greatly delighted with
the prospect of again seeing Mr. Emerson. A
letter from the latter, announcing the probable
time of his sailing, had, by accidental negligence
at a country post-office, failed to reach Carlyle in
due course, and only turned up near the time of
Mr. Emerson's expected arrival, thus depriving his
friend of the opportunity of responding. The

RECOLLECTIONS.

157

only thing left to be done was to get the reply-
delivered to Mr. Emerson as soon as he should
land. Knowing that I was in communication with
him, and certain to be cognisant of the time of his
arrival, Mr, Carlyle wrote me on the subject, and
his letter is so delightfully characteristic of his high
regard for Mr. Emerson, and his earnest desire to
free himself from even the slightest appearance of
a want of hospitality, that I must give an extract
from it. It is dated Chelsea, 15th October, 1847,
just ten days after Mr. Emerson had sailed : — " By
a letter I had very lately from Emerson — which
had lain, lost and never missed, for above a month
in the treacherous post-office of Buxton, where it
was called for and denied — I learn that Emerson
intended to sail for this country 'about the ist of
October ; ' and infer, therefore, that probably even
now he is near Liverpool or some other of our
ports. Treadmill, or other as emphatic admoni-
tion, to that scandalous post-master of Buxton !
He has put me in extreme risk of doing one of
the most unfriendly and every way unpardonable-
looking things a man could do ! Not knowing in
the least to what port Emerson is tending, \A-hen
he is expected, or what his first engagements are,
I find no way of making my word audible to him
in time, except that of entrusting it, with solemn

158 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

charges, to you, as here. Pray do me the favour to
contrive in some sure way that Emerson may get
hold of that note the instant he lands in England.
I shall be permanently grieved otherwise ; shall
have failed in a clear duty (were it nothing more)
which will never, probably, in my life offer itself
again. Do not neglect, I beg much of you ; and,
on the whole, if you can, get Emerson put safe
into the express train, and shot up hither, as the
first road he goes ! That is the result we aim at.
But the note itself, at all events, I pray you get
that delivered duly, and so do me a very great
favour, for which I depend on you." I need
scarcely say that these solemn injunctions, so
characteristic of Carlyle, were faithfully carried out
to the very letter.

The ship reached Liverpool on the 22nd of
October, 1847, and Mr. Emerson at once pro-
ceeded to Manchester, where I had the pleasure
of receiving him at the Victoria Station. After
spending a few hours together, he was "shot up,"
as Carlyle had desired, to Chelsea, and at the
end of a week returned to Manchester to com-
mence the first of a series of lecturing engagements
which had been arranged for him. In a previous
page {v. Memoir, pp. 53-4) I have endeavoured to
give the reader some idea of Emerson's manner of

RECOLLECTIONS. 159

reading in public. But I have felt it impossible to
convey to those who never heard him an adequate
impression of what to me was the most startling
and unexpected revelation of the power of speech
I ever listened to. It was absolutely unique.

In February, 1848, he went from Manchester to
Edinburgh and lectured there (1'. Memoir, p. 51),
and, in returning, stopped at Ambleside to see
Wordsworth and Miss Martineau, his first visit to
the former having taken place in 1833. "I spent
a valuable hour, and perhaps a half more, with Mr.
Wordsworth, who is in sound health at seventy-
seven years, and was full of talk. He would even
have walked with me on my way towards Miss
Martineau's, but it began to rain, and I would not
suffer it." His four lectures created a great sensa-
tion in the Scottish metropolis, and stirred the hearts
of many independent thinkers. The orthodox of
that firm stronghold of religious formalism were
grieved and shocked, although Emerson, knowing the
tone of feeling there, had, with the utmost delicacy,
avoided such subjects as might bring him into direct
contact with it. One who heard these lectures said of
him: "A lecturer in the common sense of the term, he
is not ; call him rather a public monologist, talking
rather to himself than to his audience ; and what a
quiet, calm, commanding conversation it is ! It is

l6o RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

not the seraph or burning one you see ; it is the
naked cherubic reason thinking aloud before you.
It is a soul totally unsheathed you have to do with;
and you ask, Is this a spirit's tongue sounding
on its way? so solitary and severe seems its har-
mony. There is no betrayal of emotion, except
now and then when a slight tremble in his voice
proclaims that he has arrived at some spot of
thought to him peculiarly sacred or dear. There is
no emphasis often but what is given by the eye,
and this is felt only by those who see him on the
side-view. Neither standing behind him nor before
can we form any conception of the rapt, living flash
which breaks forth athwart the spectator. His elo-
quence is thus of that high kind which produces
great effects at small expenditure of means, and
without any effort or turbulence; still and strong as
gravitation, it fixes, subdues, and turns us round."*
A remarkable article on Emerson and his Edin-
burgh lectures was written by a young student,
George Cupples, which appeared in Douglas
Jerrold's " Shilling Magazine " under the title
of "Emerson, and his Visit to Scotland," signed "A
Student." Dr. Samuel Brown, the chemical philo-
sopher (whose guest Emerson was during his Edin-
burgh visit), used to say that this was the best

* George Gilfillan's " Gallery of Literary Portraits." First series.

RECOLLECTIONS. i6r

article he had ever seen on Emerson. I venture to
give a few sentences from it.*

While in Edinburgh he sat to David Scott, the
well-known Scottish artist, for his portrait. This is
the best of the few paintings of this kind which
Scott executed. On leaving London, Emerson
thus wrote to him : " I carry with me a bright
image of your house and studio, and all your im-
mortal companions therein, and I wish to keep the
ways open between us, natural and supernatural.
If the Good Power had allowed me the oppor-
tunity of seeing you at more leisure and of com-

*" Of all men, Emerson is the most freely, fully, and longingly open
to the Future ; it is his element ; without it he dies ; the everlasting
morning all but breathes on him. In this he is national ; America
is the land of the Future ; she is vague and abundant in airy unde-
fined possibilities, somewhat cold to the actual necessities, the old
griefs of men ; she has food and land in store, and can afford to look
out for truth. . . . The reverse of a Mystic, he yet often
appears one, from that mental clearness and marvellous expression
by which he leads you into the unimagined depths, not of specula-
tion, but of him and of yourself, dividing the light-beam of a
consciousness, upon the invisible edge that is in it ; not letting you
conceive of an object. He is thus, at once the oldest and the
newest of thinkers, the most Greek-like of all modern minds ; and,
therefore, in his nationality free of all times and countries. . . .
But, in fine, setting aside the intellect of Emerson and his doc-
trine, it is to be said that his most important aspect is that of his
personal character, as a man, and as revealed secondarily through
these writings of his. In this respect, I take leave to think that
Emerson is the most mark-worthy, the loftiest and most heroic
L

i62 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

paring notes of past years a little ! And it may-
yet be allowed in time ; but where and when ?"

During his stay in Manchester, and just before
going to London to pay a round of visits and
to lecture, he invited a number of friends from
various parts of the country to dine and spend
an evening with him at his lodgings in Lower
Broughton. His guests were principally young
men — ardent, hopeful, enthusiastic moral and reli-
gious reformers, and independent thinkers, gathered
together from Birmingham, Sheffield, Nottingham,
Liverpool, Huddersfield, Newcastle, and other

mere man that ever appeared. And just because Humanity itself,
at this epoch of its progress, needs such an individual, has he
arisen. Like all representative characters, he is the anticipative
product of a universal want, as Luther of Reformation. , . .
Nothing would disgust this man more than followers, — to have a
school : the whole of men and women can only be Emersonian
by being different from him and from each other. Till then, they
can no more join hands in brotherhood and sisterhood than you can
clasp the fingers of a shadow ; he would not have them do good or be
done good to, till they are themselves: did they mimic his voice and
attitude, he would turn from them as from a flock of apes. . , .
Well may tyrannies, superstitions, and authority tremble at the
steps of Emerson, for he heralds an epoch of humanity, the stage of
man self-conscious and free from within. Other forms after that
have to arise, no doubt, and higher stations to be won, but mean-
time this is sure as the nature of man. . . . With that inward
fortitude of his — that sunbright insight of intuition — that instinct to
feel and to divine — that power to express — and that perfect indi-
vidual freedom — he forestalls centuries of general progress."

RECOLLECTIONS. 163

towns. One of them, a man of erratic genius,
and of very straitened means (but nevertheless an
inveterate smoker), who not many years ago died
in a lunatic asylum in New York, trudged on foot
all the way from Huddersfield to be present, and
next day performed the same feat homeward. He
has left behind him a detailed description of this
gathering, written in a rather sarcastic spirit, but
curious for its life-like sketches of his fellow-guests.
One of the finest spirits assembled on that occa-
sion— Henry Sutton, of Nottingham, whose little
volume of Poems, in Emerson's opinion, contained
pieces worthy of the genius of George Herbert —
and who, happily, is still living amongst us,
honoured and beloved by his friends — says that the
impression left on his mind was that the affair
went off admirably, and that all seemed delighted
to have had such an opportunity of coming into
closer contact with Emerson — that no one could
but feel gratified by his kindliness and gentle
dignity, and that his conduct and manner were
perfect. " Any criticism to the contrary could only
excite pity for the writer, if it did not too strongly
call forth disgust." It was a memorable sympo-
sium. With his fine graciousness of manner and
delicate courtesy, Emerson listened with serene
amiability, and an ineffably sweet smile to every-

i64 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

thing his young guests had to say, and made them
feel, as was his wont, that Jie was the favoured one of
the party, and that he specially was imbibing much
wisdom and benefit from their discourse. In the
course of the evening, being urgently requested to do
so, he read his lecture on Plato, then unpublished,
but now printed in his " Representative Men."

Among the guests who were present at this
motley gathering were two — no longer living — of
whom I wish to say a few words. One of them
was Dr. W. B. Hodgson, late Professor of Political
Economy in the University of Edinburgh, who died
unexpectedly in Brussels in 1880, lamented by a
very large circle of friends. I had known him
intimately almost from his boyhood. At the time
of Emerson's visit he was proprietor and conductor
of the Chorlton High School, Manchester. He was
a man of brilliant gifts, a classical scholar of no
common mark, and master of several European
languages. His kindly disposition, extensive know-
ledge of literature, and conversational powers can
never be forgotten by those who knew him. As an
after-dinner talker he had few equals. His mar-
vellous memory (for he never forgot anything he
had ever read, or heard, or seen), supplied him
with an inexhaustible store of witty and humorous
stories and anecdotes, sparkling bon mots, and an

RECOLLECTIONS. 165

unfailing affluence of apt quotation. No story,
however good, could be told by another person
in his presence which he was not able to cap on the
instant by a better one. In this social field he
was facile princeps. During his life he rendered
most valuable services to the cause of education
by his addresses, lectures, and other publications,
and by his vast (for no other word can in this case
be used) correspondence with Educational Re-
formers, Political Economists, and conductors of
Schools and Colleges, in every part of the kingdom,
as well as on the Continent and in the United
States. I may advisedly say that, during forty
years, he spent, on an average, two or three hours
a day, at least, in correspondence.

The other guest to whom I wish to refer was
Joseph Neuberg, whom I knew for more than
twenty years, and whose memory I cherish for his
many admirable qualities of head and heart. He
was a highly-cultivated and thoughtful German,
born at Wiirzburg. Mr. Emerson had made his
acquaintance at Nottingham, when lecturing there —
was, indeed, his guest, and while under his roof,
met Mr. Henry Sutton, already referred to, who
was a native of that town.* Neuberg was a success-

* Besides the volume of Poems referred to, Mr. Sutton was the
author of "The Evangel of Love" (1S47), with this motto from

1 66 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

ful merchant, and had recently sustained a severe
domestic affliction in the death of his wife. At
the time I speak of, he was living with a sister,
as his companion, in a beautiful home, looking
down upon the Trent and its green meadows.
During this visit, he took Emerson to see Newstead
Abbey. Neuberg had ardent literary tastes, was
an enthusiastic admirer of Carlyle's writings, and
had long wished to know him. The gratification
of this desire was brought about by the friendly
aid of Emerson, who spoke of him to Carlyle in
terms of high commendation. In the spring of
1848 he went to London, by Emerson's invitation,
to be introduced by him to Carlyle. In com-
pany with the former, he paid a visit to Oxford.
He soon after this left Nottingham, after winding
up his affairs there, and went to London, where he
resided for a time, and then settled in Bonn, attend-
ing lectures at the University. In 1852, Carlyle
visited him there, and they went together to the
various battle-fields and places of historical interest

Emerson : ' ' That which befits us, embosomed in beauty and wonder
as we are, is cheerfulness and courage, and the endeavour to realize
our aspirations." Some years later, he published a volume entitled
" Quinquenergia ; or Proposals for a New Practical Theology."
In this volume are included some thirty-five pages of verse, dis-
tinguished by deep religious feeling, and a certain quaintness charac-
teristic of certain of our seventeenth century English poets.

RECOLLECTIONS. 167

afterwards described in the " Life of Friedrich." In
the autumn of the same year he returned to Lon-
don, to be nearer Carlyle for a time, intending
ultimately to take up his permanent residence in
Bonn, but in the meantime, his sister becoming
engaged to a gentleman living in London, they
removed thither, and settled on its northern heights.
There he lived during the remainder of his days,
devoting himself, heart and soul, to Carlyle's ser-
vice. From that period up to the time of his
death, about fifteen years ago, he was in almost
daily communication with him. His industry was
untiring. He made researches for him in all
quarters — often spending days and weeks in the
library of the British Museum, unearthing facts
and dates from hundreds of obscure and neglected
books, manuscripts, and maps, thus saving his
friend an endless amount of distasteful drudgery.
He would think nothing of spending a whole
day in verifying a single fact or date. During
the composition of " The Life of Friedrich,"
his services were of great value, and were fully
appreciated by Carlyle. He translated into
German the successive volumes of the " Life of
Friedrich." By this arrangement they appeared
simultaneously in London and Berlin. Neuberg
did not live to translate the last two volumes,

i68 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

which were done by another hand. Carlyle was
much grieved when death deprived him of this
faithful friend and assistant. In no account of
Carlyle which has yet appeared, has any notice
been taken of Neuberg, nor any tribute paid to his
memory. In Carlyle's " Reminiscences " his name
once occurs in a parenthesis, but there is no note
appended to tell the reader who he was — Stat
nominis umbra. In " Shooting Niagara ; and after ?"
Carlyle quotes a piece of information furnished to
him by Neuberg. Without naming him, he speaks
of his informant as " one of the wisest and faith-
fullest German friends I ever had, a correct
observer, and much a lover both of his own
country and of mine." In a letter from Carlyle to
Mr, Neuberg's sister (Madame Frankau), written
in April, 1867, he says: — "If the bust give you any
satisfaction, surely I shall think it, all my days, to
have been well worth while ! No kinder friend had
I in this world ; no man of my day, I believe, had
so faithful, loyal, and willing a helper as he gene-
rously was to me for the last twenty or more years.
To look for his like again would be very vain
indeed, were I even at the beginning of my course,
instead of at the end ! A man of fine faculty,
too ; — decidedly the most intelligent, swift, and
skilful, at that kind of work, whom I have ever

RECOLLECTIONS. 169

seen and known of. The memory of him will
remain dear and noble to me ; — the sudden stroke
that has cut away such a friend, in these my
otherwise desolate days, may well be sad and heavy
to me. But if so to me, what then is it to you and
your dear little ones ? Alas on this head I must
say nothing. I will bid you be of courage, pious
courage, and in all things try to do as you think he
would have ordered and wished ; which I believe
will daily be your best consolation in this sore
trial."

During the fortnight in which Mr. Emerson
delivered his course of lectures in London, at the
Portman Square Literary and Scientific Institution,
in the summer of 1848 (referred to at page 51 of
the Memoir), I had the privilege of being his guest.
He lived in the house of Mr. John Chapman, in
the Strand — a well-known publisher of those days.
As he had already been many weeks in London,
he had met a considerable number of literary
and social celebrities, including Rogers, Hallam,
Milman, Barry Cornwall, Helps, Clough, Matthew
Arnold, Faraday, Owen, Lyell, Carpenter, Mrs.
Jameson, Henry Crabb Robinson, Mrs. Somerville,
Dickens, Thackeray, Tennyson (" one of the most
satisfying men of letters I have seen"), and
Macaulay (" that Niagara of information," as Mrs.

I70 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Fanny Kemblc called him).* He also received in-
vitations from and visited several members of the
aristocracy, including the Duchess of Sutherland.
Notwithstanding his numerous social engagements,
he generally devoted many hours a day to study,
retiring to his room immediately after breakfast,
and extending the forenoon to three o'clock. The
lectures to which I have referred were prepared

* In his " English Traits," there is a short and contemptuous
criticism of Macaulay, in which he says : — " The brilHant Macaulay,
who expresses the tone of the English governing classes of the clay,
explicitly teaches that good means good to eat, good to wear,
material commodity ; that the glory of modern philosophy is its
direction on * fruit ; ' to yield economical inventions ; and that its
merit is to avoid ideas, and avoid m.orals, &c." He witnessed one
of Macaulay's brilliant feats in conversation at a dinner, where
Hallam was one of the guests. The talk was on the question
whether the " additional letters " of Oliver Cromwell, lately pub-
lished by Carlyle, were spurious or genuine. Emerson afterwards
described this conversation to a friend in the following terms : —
" For my part, the suspicions fact about them was this, that they all
seemed written to sustain Mr. Carlyle's view of Cromwell's character ;
but the discussion turned on the external evidences of their being
forgeries. Macaulay overcame everybody at the table, including
Hallam, by pouring out with victorious volubility instances of the
use of words in a different meaning from that they bore in Crom-
well's time, or by citing words which were not in use at all until
half a century later. A question which might have been settled in
a few minutes by the consent of a few men of insight opened a tire-
some controversy which lasted during the whole dinner. Macaulay
seemed to have the best of it ; still, I did not like the arrogance with
which he paraded his minute information ; but then there was a fire,

RECOLLECTIONS. 171

with much care, as will be seen by his correspon-
dence with myself, prior to my joining him in
London.

During this visit we went to some of the theatres
together — on one evening hearing Jenny Lind, who
was then achieving her first triumphs in London.
He was very desirous of calling upon Leigh Hunt,
and as I had known the latter for many years,
and was in the habit of spending an evening with

speed, fury, talent, and effrontery in the fellow which were very
taking."

Apropos of Macaulay's overwhelming power of talk, the two
following anecdotes are w'orth recording: " Hallam, whom Sidney
Smith called the 'bore contradictor,' was once sitting near
Macaulay at a dinner party, and they quarrelled so dreadfully about
something that happened in the Middle Ages that the wretched
unfortunate who sat between them could get no dinner." In
a printed letter of Lord Brougham's in the Macvey Napier Cor-
respondence the following passage occurs : — " It is very provoking
when a man has such extraordinary abilities, and really some
powers of a first-rate order, to see the result of it all. He is
absolutely renowned in society as the greatest bore that ever yet
appeared. I have seen people come in from Holland House,
breathless and knocked up, and able to say nothing but ' Oh dear,
oh mercy!' What is the matter? being asked. 'Oh, Macaulay.'
Then every one said, ' That accounts for it, you're lucky to be
alive,' etc. Edinburgh is now celebrated for having given us the
two most perfect bores that have ever yet been known in London,
for Jack Campbell in the House of Lords is just what poor Tom
Macaulay is in private society."

Carlyle, in speaking of Macaulay, used sometimes to exclaim
" Flow on, thou Shining River!" following up with his accustomed
loud shout of laughter.

172 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

him when business carried me to London, it was
proposed that I should take him to Hunt's house.
The interview lasted more than a couple of hours,
and evidently gave great pleasure to both. I have
already mentioned that he thought the two finest-
mannered literary men he had met in England
were Leigh Hunt and De Quincey. Hunt charmed
him by his sprightly, sparkling conversation, over-
flowing with anecdote and quotation. His courteous
and winning manner was on this occasion tem-
pered by a certain delicate reverence, indicating
how deeply he felt the honour of being thus
sought out by his distinguished visitor. It is
singular that Hunt produced a similar impression
upon Hawthorne. I venture to give a portion of
his description of him — one of the most touching
sketches that Hawthorne has written: — "He was
a beautiful old man. Li truth, I never saw a finer
countenance, either as to the mould of features or
the expression, nor any that showed the play of
feeling so perfectly. It was like a child's face in
this respect. At my first glimpse of him, I discerned
that he was old, his long hair being white, and his
wrinkles many. It was an aged visage, in short
such as I had not at all expected to see, in spite of
dates, because his books talk to the reader with the
tender vivacity of youth. But when he began to

RECOLLECTIONS. 173

speak, and as he grew more earnest in conversation,
I ceased to be sensible of his age ; sometimes,
indeed, its dusky shadow darkened through the
gleam which his sprightly thoughts diffused about
his face, but then another flash of youth came out
of his eyes, and made an illumination again. I
never witnessed such a wonderfully illusive transfor-
mation, before or since ; and, to this day, trusting
only to my recollection, I should find it difficult to
decide which was his genuine and stable predica-
ment— youth or age. I have met no Englishman
whose manners seemed to me so agreeable — soft,
rather than polished, wholly unconventional, the
natural growth of a kindly and sensitive disposition,
without any reference to rule, or else obedient
to some rule so subtle that the nicest observer
could not detect the application of it. I felt that
no effect upon my mind of what he uttered, no
emotion, however transitory, in myself, escaped his
notice, — his faculty of observation was so penetra-
tive and delicate. On matters of feeling, and
within a certain depth, you might spare yourself
the trouble of utterance, because he already knew
what ycju wanted to say, and perhaps a little more
than you would have spoken. There were abun-
dant proofs throughout our interview of an un-
repining spirit, resignation, quiet relinquishment of

174 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

the worldly benefits that were denied him, thankful
enjoyment of whatever he had to enjoy, and piety,
and hope shining onward into the dark, — all of
which gave a reverential cast to the feeling with
which we parted from him. I wish that he could
have had one full draught of prosperity before he
died. At our leave-taking he grasped me warmly
by both hands, and seemed as much interested in
our whole party as if he had known us for years.
All this was genuine feeling, a quick, luxuriant
growth out of his heart, which was a soil for flower-
seeds of rich and rare varieties, not acorns, but a
true heart, nevertheless."

The effect produced upon Emerson by his visit
to Leigh Hunt was in most respects the same as
in the case of Hawthorne, and could not be ex-
pressed in more true and touching words than
those I have just quoted. He often recurred to the
interview, and spoke of it as one of the most
delightful he had ever had with a man of letters.
Hunt's exquisite little poem, " Abou Ben Adhem,"
which must ever linger in the memory of anyone
who has once known it, was a great favourite
with him, and he has included it in his volume
of poetical selections, " Parnassus," with another of
Hunt's pieces, which he thought well worthy of
remembrance — " Song to Ceres " — a few stanzas

RECOLLECTIONS. 175

with a true classical flavour. Hunt's essays and
critical works he admired for their delicateand subtle
perception of the beautiful in life, nature, and litera-
ture— their tendency to sweeten and adorn daily
existence — to encourage high aims and honest en-
deavour— and to teach the love of simple pleasures.
He considered Hunt a true lover of letters and of
mankind ; all that he has written being pervaded
by the music of kindly thoughts, and breathing
the spirit of the key-note motto to his "London
Journal": — "To assist the Inquiring, animate the
Struggling, and sympathise with all."

Many interesting places and persons we saw
together in London. An evening spent at the
house of John M inter Morgan, a wealthy social
reformer and associationist, deserves special men-
tion. This gentleman was an amiable, gentle, and
sweet-mannered enthusiast, and had written several
works well-known in his peculiar field of literature :
" Hampden in the Nineteenth Century," "Colloquies
on Religion," "The Christian Commonwealth," "Ex-
tinction of Pauperism," "The Revolt of the Bees,"
and other works on Reform and Progress in
Society, in Religion, Morality, and Science. It is
only necessary to read the titles of these works in
order to know the views and opinions of this worthy
moral reformer. He had met Emerson somewhere

176 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

in London, and obtained the promise of an evening.
Thereupon was gathered in his large drawing-room
an extraordinary assembly, consisting of many of
the leading socialists in London. The first part of
the evening was spent in the contemplation of a
huge coloured revolving view of a series of asso-
ciated villages and homes, with the most enchant-
ing representations of churches for the cultivation
of universal religion, elegant lecture and concert
rooms, and theatres, — of ladies and gentlemen
w^alking about in the healthy costumes of the
future, their children playing about them, and over
all, a sky of unclouded blue. Mr. Morgan, with a
long rod, explained to his audience the meaning
and significance of all these beautiful objects, and
answered many questions put to him by timid
believers and admirers, chiefly ladies. After this
entertainment the company adjourned to tea and
coffee, and after a couple of hours spent in intro-
ductions and the conversations naturally flowing
therefrom, the party broke up at eleven o'clock.
Emerson confessed that he had never before met
such a gathering of singular people, and often
humorously alluded to it afterwards.

Prior to his departure from home, on the occasion
of his last visit to Europe, towards the end of 1872,
he attended a complimentary dinner in New York,

RECOLLECTIONS. 177

in honour of Mr. Froude, the historian, and made a
short address. He said that Mr. Froude had shown
" at least two eminent faculties in his histories —
the faculty of seeing wholes, and the faculty of
seeing and seizing particulars. The one makes
history valuable ; the other makes it readable and
interesting. . . . The language, the style of
his books, draws very much of its excellence
from the habit of giving the very language of the
times."

On the day which Mr. Emerson spent in Edin-
burgh, on his last visit to Europe (May 8th, 1873),
he dined at the house of a friend, Dr. William
Smith, the translator of many of Fichte's works,
and President of the Edinburgh Philosophical
Association, who heard him preach in Edinburgh
in 1833, and who had listened to his lectures in
1848. At the dinner party he met Lord Neaves,*

* Lord Neaves was a distinguished member of the Scottish
bench, and a man of fine culture, a recognised wit and humourist,
and of the most genial disposition ; he was a general favourite in
Edinburgh social circles. He was the author of many songs and
verses, social and scientific, contributed to " Blackwood's Magazine."
These have been collected, and have gone through several editions.
Some of these verses had quite a renown at the time of their
publication. Among them may be named "The Origin of
Species," "The Permissive Bill," "I'm very fond of Water,"
" Hilli-onnee," "Stuart Mill on Mind and Matter," "Let us all
be unhappy on Sunday," and others.
M

178 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Dr. W. B. Hodgson,* and the widow of Dr. Samuel
Brown, who had been his host in 1847-8, and a few
other friends. He was greatly delighted with the
brilliant fire of repartee and wit which was kept up
between Lord Neaves and Dr. Hodgson, as well as
with the songs of the former, who sang not a few ;
and he frequently referred to this " wit combat " on
his visit to me a few days later. In a scrapbook
of the son of his Edinburgh host he inscribed this
memorial of his visit. " After a happy evening
with excellent company." — R. Waldo Emerson.
8th May, 1873. On the evening of his arrival (7th
May) he met a large party of notabilities in the
house of Professor Eraser. A characteristic incident
relating to this visit is worth recording. His host,
Dr. Smith, thus relates it : — " On the 8th I drove
him for some time about the city ; Miss Emerson,
being rather indisposed, remained at the hotel. In
the course of our drive we stopped at the shop of a
worthy tradesman in Nicholson-street, who is an
enthusiastic admirer of E. I had been informed
that he had been making anxious inquiries about
E.'s place of abode and the probable time of his
departure, so that he might have a chance of getting
a glimpse of his hero. I alighted, and entering the

* Late Professor of Political Economy in the University of Edin-
burgh, already referred to.

RECOLLECTIONS. 179

shop said, ' Mr, , Mr. Emerson is at the door,

and will be glad to see you for a few minutes.'
You may imagine his delight at this unexpected
fulfilment of his wishes. The five minutes were
well spent, and I have no doubt are a cherished
memory."

During his stay in Oxford and London he was
invited to give lectures, but declined. The only
appearance he made was at Mr. Thomas Hughes's
Working Men's College in London, where he made
a short address.

He spent the last two days of this his final visit
to England, under my roof, along with his devoted
daughter, Ellen. This afforded an opportunity of
bringing together many of his old friends and
hearers of 1847-8, whom he was well pleased to
meet. To every one he gave a few minutes, and
the stream of conversation flowed on for several
hours. After all the guests had departed, he
indulged in a cigar, and expressed his gratifica-
tion at having met so many " good people," as he
called them. " Would that I could have held
converse with each for half-an-hour ! " A capital
pun, related by him on this occasion, must here
be recorded. It would have rejoiced the heart
of Charles Lamb. Speaking of a convivial club,
of which he was a member, having ceased and

iSo RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

dispersed for many years, it was thought desirable
that the survivors should once more assemble,
and revive their old recollections. An interval of
ten years had meanwhile elapsed. While the
wine was circulating, someone proposed that the
society should have a gathering every ten years.
Mr. Appleton, one of the company, instantly said,
" Then it should have the title of a Dutch picture,
'Boors Drinking' after Teniers" (ten years). His
last hours in Liverpool, before sailing, were spent
with Mr. R. C. Hall, an old friend and admirer.

It has often struck me that the "marble self-
possession" of Emerson, his perfect reliance upon
his own genius and intuitions, his grand self-
dependence, which no passing excitement could
disturb or shake for a moment ; and his steadfast
belief in the ultimate sovereignty of righteousness
and truth, are well indicated in the following
remarkable lines, written by an old English
poet early in the seventeenth century — Samuel
Daniel : —

One who of such a height hath built his mind,
And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong,
As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame
Of his resolved powers,

nor pierce to wrong
His settled peace, nor to disturb the same.

RECOLLECTIONS. i8i

And with how free an eye doth he look down

Upon these lower regions of turmoil,

Where all these storms of passion vainly beat

On flesh and blood ; where honour, power, renown,

Are only gay afflictions, golden toil ;

Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet

As frailty doth, and only great doth seem

To little minds, who do it so esteem.

who hath prepared
A rest for his desires ; and sees all things
Beneath him ; and hath learned this book of man.
Full of the notes of frailty ; and compared
The best of glory with her sufferings :

inured to any hue
The world can cast ; that cannot cast that mind
Out of its form of goodness ; that doth see
Both what the best and worst of earth can be ;

■ * ■ • • • •

Which makes, that whatsoever here befals,
He in the region of himself remains."

CORRESPONDENCE.

Emerson to Carlyle on "The Life of

FRIEDRICH " AND THE AMERICAN CiVIL

War.

" Concoi'd, 1st May, i8§g.

"The book [the first volume of 'The Life of
Friedrich'] came, with its irresistible inscription, so
that I am all tenderness and all but tears. The
book, too, is sovereignly written. I think you the
true inventor of the stereoscope, as having exhi-
bited that art in style long before we had yet
heard of it in drawing. The letter came also.
Every child of mine knows from far that hand-
writing, and brings it home with speed. . . .
You hug yourself on missing the illusion of
children, and must be pitied as having one
glittering toy the less. I am a victim all my

LET'lERS. I S3

days to certain graces of form and behaviour, and
can never come into equilibrium. Now I am
fooled by my own young people, and grow old
contented. The heedless children suddenly take
the keenest hold on life, and foolish papas cling
to the world on their account, as never on their
own. Out of sympathy, we make believe to value
the prizes of their ambition and hope. My two
girls, pupils once or now of Agassiz, are good,
healthy, apprehensive, decided young people, who
love life. My boy divides his time between Cicero
and cricket, — knows his boat, the birds, and Walter
Scott, verse and prose, through and through, — and
will go to college next year. Sam Ward and I
tickled each other the other day, in looking over a
very good company of young people, by finding
in the new comers a marked improvement on
their parents. There, I flatter myself, I see some
emerging of our people from the prison of their
politics. . . , I am so glad to find myself speak-
ing once more to you, that I mean to persist in
the practice. Be as glad as you have been. You
and I shall not know each other, on this platform,
as long as we have known. A correspondent even
of twenty-five years should not be disused unless
through some fatal event. Life is too short, and
with all our poetry and morals too indigent, to

1 84 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

allow such sacrifices. Eyes so old and weary,
and which have learned to look on so much, are
gathering an hourly harvest ; and I cannot spare
what on noble terms is offered me. . . ."

" Concord, iS6i.

" Here has come into the country, three or four
months ago, another volume of your 'History of
Friedrich,' infinitely the wittiest book that ever was
written ; — a book that one would think the English
people would rise up in mass and thank the author
for by cordial acclamation, and signify, by crowning
him with oak leaves, their joy that such a head
existed among them, and sympathising and much-
reading America would make a new treaty, or send
a Minister Extraordinary to offer congratulation of
honouring delight to England in acknowledgment
of this donation ; — a book holding so many memo-
rable and heroic facts, working directly on practice,
with new heroes, things unnoticed before — the
German Plutarch (now that we have exhausted
the Greek and Roman and the British Plutarchs), —
with a range, too, of thought and wisdom, so large
and so clastic, not so much applying as inculcating
to every need and sensibility of man, — that we do
not read a stereotype page, — rather we see the eyes
of the writer looking into ours; mark his behaviour,

LETTERS. 185

humming, chuckling, — with under tones and trumpet
tones, and long commanding glances, stereoscoping
every figure that passes, and every hill, river, road,
hummock, and pebble in the long perspective — with
its wonderful system of mnemonics, whereby great
and insignificant men are marked and modelled in
memory by what they were, had, and did. . . .
And, withal, a book that is a Judgment Day for its
moral verdict on the men and nations and manners
of modern times. And this book makes no noise.
I have hardly seen a notice of it in any newspaper
or journal, and you would think there w^as no such
book. I am not aware that Mr. Buchanan has sent
a special messenger to Cheyne Row, Chelsea, or
that Mr. Dallas had been instructed to assure Mr.
Carlyle of his distinguished consideration. But the
secret wits and hearts of men take note of it, not
the less surely. They have said nothing lately in
praise of the air, or of fire, or of the blooming of
love ; and yet, I suppose, they are sensible of these
and not less of this book, which is like these."

" Concord, 8th December, 1862.

"Long ago, as soon as swift steamers could

bring the new book across the sea, I received the

third volume of ' Friedrich ' with your autograph

inscription, and read it with joy. Not a word went

1 86 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

to the beloved author, for I do not write or think.
I would wait perhaps for happier days, as our
President Lincoln will not even emancipate slaves
until on the heels of a victory, or the semblance of
such. But he waited in vain for his triumph, nor
dare I in my heavy months expect bright days.

" The book was heartily grateful, and square to
the author's imperial scale. You have lighted the
glooms, and engineered away the pits, whereof you
poetically pleased yourself with complaining, in
your sometime letter to me, clean out of it, and
have let sunshine and pure air enfold the scene.
First, I read it honestly through for the history ;
then I pause and speculate on the muse that
inspires, and the friend that reports it. 'Tis
sovereignly written, above all literature. . . .
I find, as ever in your books, that one man has
deserved well of mankind for restoring the scholar's
profession to its highest use and dignity. I find
also that you are very wilful, and have made a
covenant with your eyes that they shall not see
anything you do not wish they should. But I was
heartily glad to read somewhere that your book
was nearly finished in the manuscript, for I would
wish you to sit and taste your fame, if that were
not contrary to the law of Olympus. My joints
ache to think of your rugged labour. Now that

LETTERS. 1S7

you have conquered to yourself such a huge king-
dom among men, can you not give yourself breath,
and chat a little — an Emeritus in the Eternal
University — and write a gossiping letter to an old
American friend or so ? Alas, I own that I have
no right to say this last, I who write never. Here
we read no books. The war is our sole and doleful
instructor. All our bright young men go into it,
to be misused and sacrificed by incapable leaders.
One lesson they all learn ; to hate slavery, teterrima
causa ! But the issue does not yet appear. We
must get ourselves morally right. Nobody can
help us. 'Tis of no account what England or
France may do. Unless backed by our profligate
parties, their action would be nugatory, and, if so
backed, the worst. But even the war is better
than the degrading and descending politics that
preceded it for decades of years ; and our legisla-
tion has made great strides, and if we can stave
off that fury of trade which rushes to peace, at
the cost of replacing the South in the status ante
belluvi, we can, with something more of courage,
leave the problem to another score of years — free
labour to fight with the beast, and see if bales,
barrels, and baskets cannot find out that thus they
pass more commodiously and surely to their ports,
through free hands than through barbarians."

iS8 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

" Co7icord, 26th Sept., 186^.
"I had received in July tlic fourth volume of
' Friedrich,' and it was my best reading in the
summer, and for weeks my only reading. One
fact was paramount in all the good I drew from
it, that whomsoever many years had used and
worn, they had not yet broken any fibre of your
force ; — a pure joy to me who abhor the inroads
which time makes on me and my friends. . . .
But this book will excuse you from any unseemly
haste to make up your accounts, nay, holds you
to fulfil your career with all amplitude and calm-
ness. I found joy and pride in it, and discovered
a golden chain of continuity not often seen in the
works of men, apprising me that one good head
and great heart remained in England immovable, —
superior to his own eccentricities and perversi-
ties,— nay, wearing these, I can well believe, as a
jaunty coat or red cockade to defy or mislead
idlers, for the better securing his own peace and
the very ends which the idlers fancy he resists.
England's lease of power is good during his days.
I have in these last years lamented that you had
not made the visit to America, which in earlier
years you projected or favoured. It would have
made it impossible that your name should be cited
for one moment on the side of the enemies of man-

LETTERS. 1 89

kind. Ten days' residence in this country would
have made you the organ of the sanity of England
and Europe to us and to them, and have shown you
the necessities and aspirations which struggle up
in our free states, which, as yet, have no organ to
others and are ill or unsteadily articulated here.
In our to-day's division of Republican and Demo-
crat it is certain that the American nationality
lies in the Republican party (mixed and multiform
though that party be), and I hold it not less certain
that, viewing all the nationalities of the world,
the battle of Humanity is at this hour in America.
A few days here would show you the disgusting
composition of the other party which within the
Union resists the national action. Take from it the
wild Irish element, imported in the last twenty-five
years into this country, and led by Romish priests,
who sympathise of course with despotism, and you
would bereave it of all its numerical strength. A
man intelligent and virtuous is not to be found on
that side.

" Ah ! how gladly I would enlist you with your
thunderbolt on our part ! How gladly enlist the
wise, thoughtful, efficient pens and voices of Eng-
land ! We want England and Europe to hold our
people staunch to their best tendency. Are English
of this day incapable of a great sentiment ? Can

1 90 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

they not leave cavilling at petty failures and bad
manners, and at the dunce part (always the largest
part in human affairs), and leap to the suggestions
and finger-pointing of the gods, which, above the
understanding, feed the hopes and guide the wills
of men ? This war has been conducted over the
heads of all the actors in it, and the foolish terrors, —
' What shall we do with the negro ? ' ' the entire
black population is coming North to be fed,' &c.,
have strangely ended in the fact that the black
refuses to leave his climate ; gets his living and the
living of his employer there, as he has always done ;
is the natural ally and soldier of the Republic in
that climate ; now takes the place of 200,000 white
soldiers ; and will be, as the conquest of the country
proceeds, its garrison, till Peace without Slavery
returns. Slaveholders in London have filled English
ears with their wishes and perhaps beliefs ; and our
people, generals and politicians, have carried the
like, at first, to the war, until corrected by irresistible
experience. . . . The dismal IMalthus, the dis-
mal De Bow, have had their night. Our Census
of i860, and the war, are poems which will, in the
next age, inspire a genius like your own,

" I hate to write you a newspaper, but, in these
times, 'tis wonderful what sublime lessons I have
once and again read on the bulletin boards in the

LETTERS. 191

streets. Everybody has been wrong in his guess,
except good women, who never despair of the
ideal right."

Reminiscences of the Rev. Ezra Ripley, D.D.

[The subject of this letter was Pastor in the Church at Concord,
Massachusetts, from 1778 until his death in 1841, in his 91st
year. The letter was addressed to the Rev. Dr. Sprague, of
Albany.]

" Concord, Oct. 25, 18^8.

" My dear sir, — It will be easy, as it is grateful,
to me to answer your inquiries in regard to Dr.
Ripley, as I still have by me some sketches which
I attempted of his character very soon after his
decease. Indeed, he is still freshly remembered in
all this neighbourhood. He was a man so kind
and sympathetic, his character was so transparent,
and his merits so intelligible to all observers, that
he was very justly appreciated in this community.
He was a natural gentleman ; no dandy, but
courtly, hospitable, manly, and public-spirited ; his
nature social, his house open to all men. I remem-
ber the remark made by an old farmer, who used
to travel thither from Maine, that ' no horse from
the eastern country would go by the doctor's gate.'
Travellers from the west, and north, and south

192 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

could bear like testimony. His brow was serene
and open to his visitor, for he loved men, and he
had no studies, no occupations which company
could interrupt. His friends were his study, and
to see them loosened his talents and his tongue.
In his house dwelt order, and prudence, and plenty;
there was no waste and no stint ; he was open-
handed, and just and generous. Ingratitude and
meanness in his beneficiaries did not wear out his
compassion ; he bore the insult, and the next day
his basket for the beggar, his horse and chaise for
the cripple, were at their door. Though he knew
the value of a dollar as well as another man, yet
he loved to buy dearer and sell cheaper than others.
He subscribed to all charities, and it is no reflec-
tion on others to say that he was the most public-
spirited man in the town. The late Dr. Gardner,
in a funeral sermon on a parishioner whose virtues
did not come readily to mind, honestly said, ' He
was good at fires.' Dr. Ripley had many virtues,
and yet all will remember that even in his old age,
if the fire bell was rung, he was instantly on horse-
back, with his bucket and bag,

" He was never distinguished in the pulpit as a
writer of sermons, but in his house his speech was
form and pertinence itself You felt, in his presence,
that he belonged by nature to the clerical class.

LETTERS. 193

He had a foresight, when he opened his mouth, of
all that he would say, and he marched straight to
the conclusion. In private discourse or in debate,
in the vestry or lyceum, the structure of his sen-
tences was admirable — so neat, so natural, so terse,
his words fell like stones, and often, though quite
unconscious of it, his speech was a satire on the
loose, voluminous, patch-work periods of other
speakers. He sat down when he had done. A
man of anecdote, his talk in the parlour was chiefly
narrative. I remember the remark of a gentleman,
who listened with much delight to his conversation,
at the time when the doctor was preparing to go to
Baltimore and Washington, that 'a man who could
tell a story so well was company for kings and
John Ouincey Adams.' With a very limited
acquaintance with books, his knov/ledge was an
external experience, an Indian wisdom, the obser-
vation of such facts as country life for nearly a
century could supply. He watched with interest
the garden, the field, the orchard, the house, and the
barn, horse, cow, sheep, and dog, and all the com-
mon objects that engage the thought of the farmer.
He kept his eye on the horizon, and knew the
weather like a sea captain. The usual experience
of men — birth, marriage, sickness, death, burial, the
common temptations, the common ambitions, he
N

194 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

studied them all and sympathised so well in these
that he was excellent company and counsel to all,
even the most humble and ignorant. With extra-
ordinary states of mind, with states of enthusiasm
or enlarged speculation he had no sympathy and
pretended to none. He was very sincere, and kept
to his point, and his mark was never remote. His
conversation was strictly personal, and apt to the
person and the occasion. An eminent skill he had
in saying difficult and unspeakable things ; in
delivering to a man or woman that which all other
friends had abstained from saying ; in uncovering
the bandage from a sore place, or applying the
surgeon's knife with a truly surgical spirit. Was a
man a sot, or a spendthrift, or too long time a
bachelor, or suspected of some hidden crime, or
had he quarrelled with his wife, or collared his
father, or was there any cloud or suspicious circum-
stances in his behaviour, the good pastor knew
his way straight to that point, believing himself
entitled to a full explanation ; and whatever relief
to the conscience of both parties plain speech could
effect, was sure to be procured. In all such passages
he justified himself to the conscience and commonly
to the love of the persons concerned. Many in-
stances in which he played a right manly part, and
acquitted hirhself as a brave and wise man, will be

LETTERS. 195

long remembered. He was the more competent
to these searching discourses from his knowledge
of family history. He knew everybody's grand-
father, and seemed to talk with each person rather
as the representative of his house and name than
as an individual. In him has perished more local
and personal anecdote of this village and vicinity
than is possessed by any survivor. This intimate
knowledge of families, and this skill of speech, and
still more his sympathy, made him incomparable
in his parochial visits, and in his exhortations and
prayers with sick and suffering persons. He gave
himself up to his feeling, and said on the instant
the best things in the world. Many and many a
felicity he had in his prayer, now forever lost, which
defied all the rules of all the rhetoricians. He did
not know when he was good in prayer or sermon,
for he had no literature and no art ; but he believed,
and therefore he spoke.

" He was eminently loyal in his nature, and not
fond of adventures or innovation. By education,
and still more by temperament, he was engaged to
the old forms of the New England Church. Not
speculative, but affectionate ; devout, but with an
extreme love of order, he adopted heartily, though
in its mildest forms, the creed and catechism of the
fathers, and appeared a modern Israelite in his

196 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

attachment to the Hebrew history and faith. Thus
he seemed, in his constitutional leaning to their
religion, one of the rear-guard of the great camp
and army of the Puritans ; and now, when all the
old platforms and customs of the Church were
losing their hold in the affections of men, it was fit
that he should depart, fit that, in the fall of laws, a
loyal man should die. — Yours with great respect,

" R. W. Emerson."

Letters to A. Ireland.

'' Liverpool, joth August, i8jj" (before sailing
for America). — Extracts from this letter, describing
his first interviews with Carlyle and Wordsworth,
will be found at pp. 148-151 of "Recollections."

" Concord, 28th Dec, 184.6. — I was very glad to
be reminded by your concise note, written on ship-
board and conveyed to me by Mr. Garrison, of our
brief intercourse thirteen years ago, and which it
seems has not yet quite ended. Your affectionate
expressions towards me and my friends are very
grateful to me ; and, indeed, what better thing do
men or angels know of than an enduring kind-
ness ? In regard to your inquiry whether I shall
visit England now or soon, the suggestion is new

^ LETTERS. 197

and unlocked for, yet opens to me at once so
many flattering possibilities that I shall cheerfully
entertain it, and, perhaps, we may both see it ripen
one day to a fact. Certainly it would be much
more practicable and pleasant to me to answer an
invitation, than to come into your cities and
challenge an audience. You have been slower to
visit Mr. Wordsworth than I was, but, according
to all testimonies, he retains his vigour and his
social accomplishments. He could not now remem-
ber me in my short and unconnected visit, or I
might easily send him assurances, from me and
many others also unknown to him, of a regard
that could not fail to gratify him. — With the best
wishes of these days, &c."

The next letter from him (Concord, 28th
February, i8^y,) will be found at page 154 of
*' Recollections."

" Concord, 1st April, iS^y. — My townsman, E.
Rockwood Hoar, Esq., is ordered by his physicians
to quit his professional duties for a time, and to
travel for his health. Mr. Hoar is an eminent
practitioner at the Massachusetts Bar, and was
lately a member of our State Senate. As he
proposes to visit Manchester in his route, I use
the opportunity to beg you to introduce him to

I9S RALPH WALDO EMEl^ON.

the Athenaeum, and to give him any local informa-
tion that you may think may be useful to him. —
Yours with great regard."

" Concord, jist July, iS^y. — I owe you hearty
thanks for your effective attention to my affair,
which was attractive enough to me in the first
proposition, and certainly assumes in your hands
a feasible shape. I have a good deal of domestic
immoveableness — being fastened down by wife
and children, by books and studies, by pear
trees and apple trees — but after much hesitation
can find no sufficient resistance to this animating
invitation, and I decide to go to England in the
autumn. I think to leave home about the ist
October, perhaps in the steamer, but more probably
in the sailing packet which leaves Boston for Liver-
pool on the 5th of each month; and, at any rate,
shall expect to be in England before the ist
November. From the ist November, I will take
your advice as to the best order of fulfilling those
engagements you offer me at Manchester, Shef-
field, and Leeds. In regard to the subjects of
my lectures, I hope to send you by the next
steamer some programme or sketch of programme
that may serve a general purpose. I could more
easily furnish myself for so ' numerous ' a course

LETTERS, 199

as seems to offer itself if there were any means
of preventing your newspaper reporters from pub-
lishing such ample transcripts as I notice (in the
' Examiner ' you were so good as to send me) of
Mr. Marston's lectures. But I will see what I have
to say. Meantime, I beg you not to give yourself
any further pains in this matter, which I fear has
already cost you much. It will give me pleasure
to speak to bodies of your English people, but I
am sure it will give me much more to meet with
yourself and other honoured individuals in private;
and I see well that, if there were no lecturing, I
should not fail to find a solid benefit in the visit. —
With great regard."

" Concord, joth Sept., i8^J. — I have decided,
after a little hesitation and advising with better
sailors than myself, to follow my inclination in
taking passage in a ship, and not in the steamer.
I have engaged a berth in the ' Washington
Irving,' which leaves Boston for Liverpool next
Tuesday, 5th October. The owners are confident
that, with ordinary fortune, we shall arrive in Liver-
pool in twenty days. But I shall not complain if
the voyage should be a little longer. ... I
shall probably think it best to go directly to Man-
chester to meet yourself, and to settle with you

200 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

the plan of my little campaign. I suppose that I
shall be ready to read lectures at once as soon as
the proper notices can be given ; or, if more time
is required by the institutes, I can go to London,
and make a short visit before I begin. I know
that I ought to have sent you some synopsis long
ago, but it has never been quite certain to me what
I could promise, as I have been endeavouring to
complete some lectures not even yet quite finished.
I think I will now reserve my table of contents
until I see you. — Yours, with great regard."

^^ EdinburgJi, lytJi Febj'uaiy, 18^8. — Some friends
here wish me to read my lecture on Plato to the
Phil. Society, on Saturday night, at half-past eight
o'clock. It lies in one of my bureau drawers at
Mrs. Massey's. Now will you proceed with bene-
ficent action at once to Fenny-street, demand a
candle, and open the various newspaper envelopes
in my drawers until you eliminate and extort
* Plato,' and send it by post immediately to me,
care of Dr. Brown, i, Cuthbert's Glebe, Edinbro' ?
The good Misses Massey will assist your search,
and yourself will reward your pains. I have seen
your father and mother, and Mr. Chambers, and
others your friends, and all your despatches and
benefits have safely arrived. — Ever yours."

LETTERS. 201

"'Ambleside, 2Qth Feby., 18^8. — Here am I for
one day more at Miss Martineau's house. I had
fully intended to set out for Manchester this morn-
ing ; but let myself be over-persuaded by some
hospitable friends yesterday, to stay to-day and
see the mountains. I had the best visit at Edin-
burgh, where I parted with your kindest mother
last Sunday p.m.; and on Monday, with Dr. Brown
and De Quincey, at the station on my way north-
ward. Yesterday I spent a valuable hour, and
perhaps a half more, with Mr. Wordsworth, who
is in sound health at seventy-seven years, and was
full of talk. He would even have walked on my
way with me towards Miss Martineau's, but it
began to rain, and I would not suffer it. — Ever,
with best wishes."

" London, i/j.2. Strand, Jth March, 1848. — I am
well enough domiciliated here, and am awaiting
your visit. ... I am beginning to see London
shows, but, as everywhere, find the morning too
precious to go abroad in, and am prone to lengthen
the morning till three o'clock. I have seen Carlyle
one good day, and, as you ask it, I will send you
some good token of him, of this day or a better.
But now for another change. . . . — Yours affec-
tionately."

202 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

" 1^2, Straiid, London, gtJi March, 184.8. — I find
him (Carlyle) full of strong discourse. He is in the
best humour at the events in France. For the first
time in his life he takes in a daily paper — the
'Times' — and yet I think he has not much confi-
dence in the ability of the French to carry such
great points as they have to carry. He interests
himself a good deal in the Chartists, and in politics
generally, though with abundant contempt for what
is called political. He talks away on a variety of
matters, on London, on the Universities, on Church
and State, on all notable persons, on the delusion
that is called Art, on the Sand novels, &c., &c. I
think him a most valuable companion, and speak-
ing the best opinions one is likely to hear in this
nation. It is by no means easy to talk with him,
but there is little need of that, as he enjoys his
pictures and his indignations highly. The guiding
genius of the man, and what constitutes his supe-
riority over other men of letters, is his commanding
sense of justice and incessant demand for sincerity.
And I cannot help thinking that he has more books,
or at least one more book to write, of more efficiency
than any he has written. I expect your promised
visit as soon as the hard work is over. — Yours ever."

''London, jrd April, 1848. — I had hoped to

LETTERS. 203

have seen you here ere this. My London adven-
tures already make too long a story to write.
I spend my time not quite unprofitably, but in
a way that must soon have an end, or it would
make an end of my comfort. Yet I cannot
decline these valued opportunities of seeing men
and things which are offered me here. Excepting
Tennyson, I believe, I have seen all the literary
and many of the political notabilities who interested
me. On Thursday last, I went to Oxford, and
spent two days and more, very agreeably there,
and made the acquaintance of many good men.
I have not quite yet decided how long to stay, or
whither next to go, but soon must. I carried our
good friend Neuberg, the other night, to Carlyle,
who was in better mood than usual. I have a
good chamber for you here, waiting your advent,
and am ever yours. I doubt about Paris a little,
being very impatient to be at home and at work."

" 1^2, Strand, ijth April, 18^8. — Some friends
are taking steps here to find me an audience in
London, if only I were ready — and if I do this
thing, I must perhaps be too late for you in
M. and L. Never ask such a tardy workman
as I when his wares will be finished. Meantime
I am very industrious, eat a great many dinners,

204 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

hear a great many lectures, see many persons,
many things, go to clubs, theatres, and soirees,
receive good letters, through your hands, from
home, and get on a line or two in my literary tasks
every day. I have never gone to Bristol, Chelten-
ham, and Exeter, though reminded of my privilege.
The London day is not long enough for its manifold
deed, and I leave my letters long unanswered. I
received with thanks the good ' Examiners.' The
last is gone to Boston. I sent you a new ' Mass.
Quarterly Review,' but it could not go by post,
I found too late, because I had written your name
on it. — With kindest remembrances to your friends,
I remain, yours faithfully."

" London, 1^2, Strand, 3rd May, 18^8. — I have
stayed in London a great while, yet have not quite
finished my visit. I am going to Paris, I think, on
Saturday, and mean to stay there but a short time,
as it is decided, almost against me, that I shall read
lectures here three weeks hence. Ah, if I knew what
to call those lectures ! they have grown from day to
day and have not yet a name. But the indecision
whilst I have been writing here, whether to read or
not, and which I had once decided NO, has left me
quite unable to send you any word to Manchester.
. . . It will also be too late at Manchester for

LETTERS. 205

any of those private classes which hovered in your
friendly imagination. Besides it is late in the year,
and it will be high time for me to set my slow sail
for the Capes of Massachusetts. In my short and
crowded days here I have given you no account of
myself, yet I have found London rich and great,
quite equal to its old fame. I have seen a large
number of interesting persons, and I suppose the
best things — the Parliament, Oxford, the British
Museum, Kew Gardens, the Scientific Societies, the
Clubhouses, the Theatres, and so forth. I attend
Mr. Owen's lectures at the Royal College of Sur-
geons ; Faraday, at the Royal Institution ; Lyell,
Sedgwick, Buckland, Forbes, I hear at the Geologic
Society ; and two nights ago I dined with the
Antiquaries, and discussed Shakspeare with Mr.
Collier. Dr. Carpenter has shown me his micro-
scopes. Sir Henry Delabeche his geologic museum,
and I have really owed many valuable hours to the
scientific bodies. Now the Picture Galleries are
open, and I have begun to see pictures and artists.
It is very easy to see that London would last an
inquisitive man a good while, and find him in new
studies, but the miscellany is distracting, and quiet
countrymen will soon have enough of dining out
and of shilling-shows. Yet I value all my new
experience, and doubtless shall not wish it less when

2o6 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

I am safe in my woods again. In Paris I shall
remain three weeks to see the revolution, and to
air my nouns and verbs. Mr. Bancroft, who has
just returned, takes the most favourable views of
their politics, and says the workmen have quite got
through all scheme \sic\ of asking Government to
find them labour, repudiate the whole plan, &c.
By the last steamer I had no letters from home ;
if the letters of the due ship come to you, speed
them to your ever obliged and grateful."

^^ London, Tuesday, nth July, 184.8. — It now
appears certain that I cannot reach Manchester
[on his way to Liverpool], do what I can, before
9-4 p.m. on Thursday. So you must give me tea
and toast and a bed that night, and despatch me
early next morning to Liverpool, where Mrs. Paulet
has always been promised the homage of a day. I
am very sorry that I am so late and crowded
and speedy ; 'tis the inevitable fate of my nation.
But I could not go without a call at Chatsworth,
which I must report to some friends at home,
and I stop at Coventry one night first. I have
just got home from Stonehenge, whither I went
with Carlyle, and Chapman has made out the plan
of my new journey to you the best he could. —
Yours ever."

LETTERS. 207

" Concord^ s^^'- J '^^J'! ^^49- — ^^^ ^^i^^ think I died
and was buried soon after I left Manchester. No,
I escaped the sea and survive until this day, but
with no studies or fortunes worth transmitting news
of so far ; yet not despairing, one of these days, to
send you something. But here is my friend, Rev.
James Freeman Clarke, an excellent and accom-
plished man, who can tell you of every good thing
in Boston and America, and whom you must fur-
nish with good tidings to me of all your circle. —
Yours affectionately."

" Conco7'd, i2th May, i8jO. — I received many
weeks ago a note from you for which I found no
answer, — I am sorry for it, — and so sent none, I
am so disconnected from all the common systems
of lucrative work, that when I hear of an appli-
cant I inquire of other people if there is room.
Mr. Greeley (of N.Y.) said, ' None for literary
work; we refuse such applications in great numbers.'
Rev. Dr. Furness, of Philadelphia, said, ' I always
advise the Englishman to come ; I know of so
many instances of success.' My belief is that there
is, for all men of energy, much more room and
opportunity here than with you ; but almost no
more promise here than with you for any infirmity.
In the case of your friend, I should think it not

208 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

wise, — from my impressions of his tendencies and
turn of mind, — to make the adventure. I saw him
but little, and learned something of him from his
friends, the Fishers, — I saw no writing, heard no
public speaking, and have no knowledge of what
public talent he possesses ; but he did not inspire
me with any confidence in his good sense, or in
his reasonable expectations from society. So I
only praise the more your and Mr. Fisher's generous
fidelity to him. I was very glad to see your hand
and name, and you must not fail to write me again
when you have the like application to make for
another person. 'Tis likely I may give you a much
better answer. But mainly I look and shall not
cease to look for your own arrival, though late, yet
sure, it must be, on your tour of observation. Mr.
Lawrence, I see, tells you once a month, in London,
that ' we are a great nation,' and my dear Carlyle
tells you that we are a very dull one ; but Nature
never disappoints, and our square miles and the
amount of human labour here are incontestable,
and will interest all your taste, intelligence, and
humanity. Forgive me that I never write. My
eyes are not good, and I write no letter that is not
imperative. I remember you at all times with
kindest thankfulness. ... I heard with joy
that E was well placed, to command his time

LETTERS. 209

and studies. Of Mr. B , too, his paper brought

me good news. And Mr. Kell, of Huddersfield,
gave me good tidings of others of your friends. —
Yours affectionately."

" Concord, April 26, i86g. — Unless I knew your
generosity ... I should hesitate to write a
line to you after such unpardonable intervals, lest,
if you have not forgotten my handwriting, you
should burn it unread. But now I have two com-
manding motives which break down even my
chronic and constitutional reluctance to write a
letter. In the first place, a pretty good acquain-
tance with the brave book you sent me,* — I dare
not count how many months ago, — and whose
examination even I was long forced to postpone,
mainly on account of tasks which have closely
succeeded each other ever since October until
now, and partly, also, because you had forgotten
how much twenty-one or two years have damaged
my eyes since I saw you, so that they now refuse
to read a type so fine and solid as that of this
book, unless in the most favourable circumstances.

* Mr. Emerson here refers to a volume printed by me in 1868 — ■
a labour of love — a " Bibliographical List of the Writings of William
Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt," chronologically arranged, including notes,
opinions, &c., with an article on Charles Lamb and his works,
Wm. Hazlitt, cScc.

O

2IO RALPH IVALDO EMERSON:

Polite friends assure me that it is only because I
have darkened my house with a grove of trees,
which allow easy reading in my library only in the
brightest days. But, at last, I have read much in
this pleasant book of justice and love, and can
willingly join in the general thanks of scholars to
you for this work of loyalty and good taste, so
thoroughly and accurately performed, that it will
be the liber vejntatis and liber sticdionun for all
lovers of Lamb and Hazlitt and Hunt, now and
hereafter. . . . My second motive for the pen
to-day is that my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Fields,
who know so many of your English friends, but
have never seen yourself, are departing in a couple
of days for England and France and Switzerland,
and I desire to make it certain that you and
they shall meet. You and they have many good
qualities in common, and among them the singular
eccentricity of an eminent goodwill and helpfulness
to me. If it is possible, I hope that Mrs. Ireland
and Mrs. Fields may meet, that I may have new
information to add to all I drew from the valued
photograph you sent me. Miss Mabel Lowell, Mr.
J. R. Lowell's only daughter, is of the Fields' party
in their tour. I should like well to see you and
your Manchester again, you and your household,
and to know the history of many of those who

LETTERS. 211

surrounded you in 1847-8. Mr. Bright has been
at last placed as you anticipated and wished, and
the world thinks of Mr. Cobden as you and your
friends did. With Mr. W. E. Forster and Mr.
Rawlins I have had some communication. . . .
All your political friends have been ours, and I
wish you will keep them so. But one duty you
have left undone, which is to make your own visit
to these States, and I shall expect you till you
come. Be assured you shall find a hearty welcome
in this house. — Yours ever affectionately."

" Concord, igtJi January , iSjz. — I wish that my
son-in-law, Col. W. H. Forbes, and my daughter
(Edith), his wife, should not fail to see you if they
reach Manchester in their passage through England
to the continent. They know well your steadfast
goodwill and good action at one time, and at all
times to me and to my friends, and I have charged
them not to fail at seeing you on their way, or
else certainly on their return through England.
You must show them the specialties of your great
city, and you must make them acquainted with
Mrs. Ireland, whom I have never seen, though
I keep her photograph. Tell them, I pray you,
all that I should hear from you, and believe me,
ever yours affectionately."

212 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

" Oxford, 1st May, iSyj, House of Pi'ofessor Max
Midler. — It seems that I have been travelling too
fast for your letters to catch me. To-day I have
received yours of 29th April, and rush to say with
thankfulness and regret that my day for reaching
Manchester should be the 12th May, and that I
will come to you then at Bowdon. Meantime, for
Mr. Brown, of Selkirk, I think with gratitude to
him that it will be safer for such swift travellers as
my daughter and I must be, that it will be best
not to trouble him with our swiftness, but to sit
down at Kennedy's Hotel, in Edinburgh, and
trust to the ordinary resources for our visit to the
important points, and I will try to express our
thanks to him for his kindest offices. I am sorry
to be so tardy with my acknowledgments, and am
just now waited for by my hospitable Professor
Miiller to go to the colleges. — In great haste, but
greater love, I remain."

" Edinburgh, Kennedys Hotel, 8th May, iSyj. —
My best thanks for your affectionate care for me
and mine. Ellen tells me that the result of her
arithmetic and dates is that we shall arrive at
Manchester at 5-20 on Monday from the Lakes,
and that I will stay till Wednesday with you, and
Ellen will go to Liverpool on Tuesday noon, such

MONCURE D. CONWAY. 213

are her necessities. Continue, I pray you, your
loving-kindness to me and mine. With my
greetings to Mrs. Ireland. — -Yours ever faithfully."

Mr. Moncure D. Conway.

I consider it due to my friend, Mr. Moncure D.
Conway, to give here the letter of introduction which
he brought to me from Emerson in 1863. Through
the study of his writings he had been led to abandon
the creed in which he was reared, and to turn
against the institution of slavery prevailing in
Virginia. His father was a planter and slave-owner
in that State, and the change which came over his
son led to their alienation, and to his departure
from the paternal home. By Emerson's advice he
went to Cambridge University, and entered the
"Divinity School," connected with Harvard Univer-
sity. His object was to be near his master, and to
know more of the man through whom his life had
been revolutionised. " Now and then he came at
the solicitation of the students to pass an evening
in conversation wath them or to read an essay. On
one occasion, when it was announced that he was
to read a lecture at Concord, the Emersonians
collected in some force and drove in sleighs by
night over the twenty miles to hear him. The

214 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

lecture had been postponed, but the philosopher
took us to his house, and we found in his conversa-
tion ample compensation for our disappointment.
He treated those present as the guests of his
thoughts, with an imperial hospitality, and the
questions and answers of the youthful inquirers
must have convinced him that if the old circle of
Concord had broken up, it was only into divers
circles with other centres. Within the next few
years his influence in the Divinity School had so
increased that he might have been regarded as an
ungowned professor ; and it will not seem sur-
prising to those who remember those days that
he should since have been brought into official
relations with the University. A great deal of my
time was passed at Concord ; Thoreau, Miss
Peabody, Ellery Channing, and one or two others
of the old fraternity were still there, and the society
was very attractive. There were courses of lectures
given in the village by eminent gentlemen, and
Mr. Emerson's open evenings preserved the literary
character of the society. The motley group de-
scribed by Hawthorne were no longer seen crowd-
ing in the streets of Concord, but there were to be
frequently met strange faces which, as they passed,
the villagers were apt to note with the surmise that
they might be famous men from far-off places."

MO N CURE D. CONWAY. 215

Mr. Conway, after residing for some time in
Cincinnati, ultimately settled as a minister in
Boston. In 1863 he came to London, where he
succeeded to the pastorate of Mr. W. J. Fox's
congregation at South Place, Finsbury, a position
which he still holds, Mr. Conway has contributed
many valuable papers on Emerson and other sub-
jects to " Fraser's Magazine," between 1864 and
1874, and he is a frequent writer in other periodicals.
Several books from his pen have made their mark,
and are well known and appreciated — " Republican
Superstitions ; " " The Earthward Pilgrimage ; "
" Sacred Anthology, being Selections from Oriental
Scriptures;" an elaborate "History of Demonology,"
in two vols. ; " Legend of the Wandering Jew ; "
" Thomas Carlyle : Recollections of Seventeen
Years' Intercourse ; " " Address on John Stuart
Mill ; " &c., &c. Mr. Conway's abilities and ac-
quirements have gradually secured for him and his
admirable wife a very large circle of friends in
London, which includes many of the most dis-
tinguished men and women of letters, and artists.

Letter Introducing Mr. Conway.

" Concord, gth April, iS6j.
" Mr, Moncure D. Conway, a valued neighbour
of mine, and a man full of public and private

2i6 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

virtues, goes to England just now, having, as I
understand, both inward and outward provocation
to defend the cause of America there. I can
assure you, out of much knowledge, that he is very-
competent to this duty, if it be one. He is a
Virginian by birth and breeding ; and now for
many years a Northerner in residence and in sen-
timent. He is a man of excellent ability in
speaking and writing, and I grudge to spare his
usefulness at home even to a contingency so im-
portant as the correcting of opinion in England.
In making you acquainted with Mr. Conway, I
charge him to remind you that the first moment of
American peace will be the best time for you to
come over and pay us and me a long promised
visit."

TRIBUTES TO EMERSON.

The regular monthly meeting of the Massa-
chusetts Historical Society was held at Boston on
Thursday, May ii, 1882. Dr. George E. Ellis
occupied the chair.

Remarks of Dr Ellis.

Many of us who meet in this library to-day are
doubtless recalling vividly the memory of the im-
pressive scene here when, fifteen months ago, Mr.
Emerson, appearing among us for the last time,
read his characteristic paper upon Thomas Carlyle.
It was the very hour on which the remains of that
remarkable man were committed to his Scotch
grave. There was much to give the occasion here
a deep and tender interest. We could not but feel
that it was the last utterance to which we should
listen from our beloved and venerated associate, if
not, as it proved to be, the last of his presence

2l8 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

among us. So \vc listened greedily and fondly.
The paper had been lying in manuscript more
than thirty years, but it had kept its freshness and
fidelity. The matter of it, its tone and utterance,
were singularly suggestive. Not the least of the
crowding reflections with which we listened was
the puzzling wonder, to some of us, as to the tie of
sympathy and warm personal attachment, of nearly
half a century's continuance, between the serene
and gentle spirit of our poet-philosopher and the
stormy and aggressive spirit of Mr. Carlyle.

There are those immediately to follow me who,
with acute and appreciative minds, in closeness of
intercoi;rse and sympathy with Mr. Emerson, will
interpret to you the form and significance of his
genius, the richness of his fine and rare endow-
ments, and account to you for the admiring and
loving estimate of his power and influence and
world-wide fame in the lofty realms of thought,
with insight and vision and revealings of the cen-
tral mysteries of being. They must share largely
in those rare gifts of his who undertake to be the
channel of them from him to others. For it is
no secret, but a free confession, that the quality,
methods, and fruits of his genius are so peculiar,
unique, obscure, and remote from the appreciation
of a large class of those of logical, argumentative.

TRIBUTES. 219

and prosaic minds, as to invest them with the ill-
understood and the inexplicable. He was signally
one of those, rare in our race, in the duality of our
human elementary composition, in whom the dust
of the ground contributed its least proportion, while
the ethereal inspiration from above contributed the
greatest.

The words which I would add, prompted as in
keeping with this place and occasion, shall be in
reminiscence of years long past. Those whose
memories are clear and strong, and who forty-five
years ago in their professional, literary, or social
fellowships were intent upon all that quickened
thought and converse in this peculiar centre of
Boston and its neighbourhoods, will recall with
what can hardly be other than pensive retrospects
the charms and fervours, the surprises, and perhaps
the shocks, certainly the bewilderment and the
apprehension, which signalled the announcement
here of what w^as called Transcendentalism. Though
the word was from the first wrongfully applied,
there was an aptness in its use, as in keeping with
the mistiness and cloudiness of the dispensation to
which it was attached. The excitement here was
adjusted to the size, the composition, the tone and
spirit, and the unassimilated elements of this com-
munity. The movement had the quickening zest

220 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

of mystery. It was long before those who were
not a part of it could reach to any intelligible idea
of what it might signify, or promise, or portend.
There were a score, a hundred, persons craving to
have explained to them what it all meant, to each
one who seemed ready or able in volunteering to
throw light upon it. And this intended light was
often but an adumbration. Mr. Emerson gained
nothing from his interpreters. Nor does he now.
The key which they offered did not fit the wards
of the lock. The vagueness of the oracle seemed
to be deepened w^hen repeated by any other lips
than those which gave it first utterance. In most
of the recent references in the newspapers and
magazines to the opening of Mr. Emerson's career
in high philosophy, emphatic statements are made
as to the ridicule and satire and banter evoked by
the first utterances of this transcendentalism. It is
not impressed upon my memory that any of this
triviality w^as ever spent upon Mr. Emerson him-
self The modest, serene, unaggressive attitude,
and personal phenomena of bearing and utterance
which were so winningly characteristic of his
presence and speech, as he dropped the sparkles
and nuggets of his fragmentary revelations, were
his ample security against all such disrespect. The
fun, as I remember, was spent upon the first circle

TRIBUTES. 221

of repeaters, and so-called disciples, a small but
lively company of both sexes, who seemed to patent
him as their oracle, as an inner fellowship who
would be the medium between him and the un-
illumined. Nor was it strange that explanations,
or demonstrative and argumentative expositions of
the Emersonian philosophy proffered by its inter-
preters did not open it clearly to inquirers, inasmuch
as he himself assured us that it was not to be
learned or tested by old-fashioned familiar methods.
I know of but one piece from his pen now in print,
and dating from the first year of his publicity, in
which he appears, not in self-defence under chal-
lenge,— for he never did that, — but in attempted
and baffled self-exposition. Nor have lines ever
been written, by himself or by his interpreters, so
apt, so characteristic, so exquisitely phrased and
toned, so exhaustively descriptive of the style and
spirit of his philosophy as those which I will quote.
The younger Henry Ware, whose colleague he
had been during his brief pastorship of a church,
disturbed by something in a discourse which Mr.
Emerson, after leaving the pulpit, had delivered in
Cambridge in 1838, had preached in the College
chapel a sermon dealing in part with a position
which had startled himself and others in his friend's
address, and, in part, with a breeze of excitement

222 RALPH WALDO EMERSON,

which it had raised in a tinderish community. The
sermon being printed, Mr. Ware sent a copy of it
to Mr. Emerson, with a letter, which the latter says
" was right manly and noble." The letter expressed
a little disturbance, puzzle, and anxiety of mind,
and put some questions hinting at desired explana-
tions and arguments.

In reply Mr. Emerson interprets himself thus: —
[It is unnecessary to reprint the letter here
referred to, as the reader will find it already given
at pp. 27-8 of the Memoir.]

No one in comment, essay, or criticism upon
Mr. Emerson has improved upon his own revealing
of his philosophy of intuition, insight, eye, and
thought, as distinguished from that of logic and
argument. It needed some considerable lapse of
time, with much wondering, questioning, and de-
bating in this community, to clear the understand-
ing, that the new and hopeful message brought to
us was something like this, — that those who were
overfed, or starved, or wearied with didactic, prosaic
lessons of truth for life and conduct, through for-
mal teaching, by reasoning, arguings and provings,
might turn to their own inner furnishings, to their
thinkings as processes, not results, and to the free
revealings and inspirings from without as interpreted
from within.

TRIBUTES. 223

But whatever was the baffling secret of Mr.
Emerson's philosophy, there was no mystery save
that to the charm and power of which we all love
to yield ourselves, in the poise and repose of his
placid spirit, in the grace and felicity of his utter-
ance, in the crowding of sense and suggestiveness
into his short, terse sentences, in his high reachings
for all truth as its disciple, and in the persuasive-
ness with which he communicated to others what
was disclosed to him. He never answered to a
.challenge by apology or controversy.

At the conclusion of his address. Dr. Ellis read
the following letter from Judge Hoar : —

Letter of The Hon. E. R. Hoar.

Concord, May 8, 1882.

My dear Dr. Ellis, — I find that it will be out
of my power to attend the meeting of the Historical
Society on Thursday next, and I am sorry to lose
the opportunity of hearing the tributes which its
members will pay to the memory of Mr. Emerson,
than whose name none more worthy of honour is
found on its roll. His place in literature, as poet,
philosopher, seer, and thinker, will find much more
adequate statement than any which I could offer.
But there are two things which the Proceedings of

224 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

our Society may appropriately record concerning
him, one of them likely to be lost sight of in the
lustre of his later and more famous achievements,
and the other of a quality so evanescent as to be
preserved only by contemporary evidence and
tradition.

The first relates to his address in September,
1835, at the celebration of the two hundredth anni-
versary of the settlement of Concord ; which seems
to me to contain the most complete and exquisite
picture of the origin, history, and peculiar charac-
teristics of a New England town that has ever been
produced.

The second is his pozver as an orator, rare and
peculiar, and in its way unequalled among our co-
temporaries. Many of us can recall instances of it,
and there are several prominent in my recollection ;
but perhaps the most striking was his address at
the Burns centennial, in Boston, on the 25th of
January, 1859.*

The company that he addressed was a queer
mixture. First, there were the Burns club, — grave,
critical, and long-headed Scotchmen, jealous of the
fame of their countryman, and doubtful of the
capacity to appreciate him in men of other blood.
There were the scholars and poets of Boston and its

* This speech is given near the end of the volume.

TRIBUTES. 225

neighbourhood, and professors and undergraduates
from Harvard College. Then there were state and
city officials, aldermen and common councilmen,
brokers and bank directors, ministers and deacons,
doctors, lawyers, and "carnal self-seekers" of every
grade.

I have had the good fortune to hear many of
the chief orators of our time, among them Henry
Clay, John Quincy Adams, Ogden Hoffman, S. S.
Prentiss, William H. Seward, Charles Sumner,
Wendell Phillips, George William Curtis, some of
the great preachers, and Webster, Everett, Choate,
and Winthrop at their best. But I never witnessed
such an effort of speech upon men as Mr. Emerson
apparently then attained. It reached at once to his
own definition of eloquence, — " a taking sovereign
possession of the audience." He had uttered but a
few sentences before he seemed to have welded
together the whole mass of discordant material and
lifted them to the same height of sympathy and
passion. He excited them to smiles, to tears, to
the wildest enthusiasm. His tribute to Burns is
beautiful to read, perhaps the best which the
occasion produced on either side of the ocean. But
the clear articulation, the ringing emphasis, the
musical modulation of tone and voice, the loftiness
of bearing, and the radiance of his face, all made a
i'

226 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

part of the consummate charm. When he closed, the
company could hardly tolerate any other speaker,
though good ones were to follow.

I am confident that every one who was present
on that evening would agree with me as to the
splendour of that eloquence.

Very truly yours,

E. R. Hoar.

Rev. George D. Ellis, D.D.,

Vice-President of the Massachusetts Historical Society.

Address of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes.

Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes then arose and
addressed the Society as follows : —

It is a privilege which any of us may claim, as
we pass each of these last and newly raised mounds,
to throw our pebble upon the cairn. For our own
sakes we must be indulged in the gratification of
paying our slender tribute. So soon, alas, after
bidding farewell to our cherished poet to lose the
earthly presence of the loftiest, the divinest of our
thinkers ! The language of eulogy seemed to have
exhausted itself in celebrating him who was the
darling of two English worlds, the singer of Acadian
and Pilgrim and Indian story, of human affections
and aspirations, of sweet, wholesome life from its

TRIBUTES. 227

lullab}- to its requiem. And now we hardly know
what measure to observe in our praises of him who
was singularly averse to over-statement, who never
listened approvingly to flattery when living, and
whose memory asks only the white roses of truth
for its funeral garlands.

The work of his life is before us all, and will have
full justice done it by those who are worthy of the
task and equal to its demands. But, as out of a
score of photographs each gives us something of a
friend's familiar face, though all taken together do
not give us the whole of it, so each glimpse of
reminiscence, each hint of momentary impression,
may help to make a portrait which shall remind us
of the original, though it is, at best, but an imper-
fect resemblance.

When a life so exceptional as that which has
just left our earthly companionship appears in any
group of our fellow-creatures, we naturally ask how
such a well-recognised superiority came into being.
We look for the reason of such an existence among
its antecedents, some of which we can reach, as, for
instance, the characteristics of the race, the tribe, the
family. The forces of innumerable generations are
represented in the individual, more especially those
of the last century or two. Involved with these,
inextricable, insoluble, is the mystery of mysteries,

228 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

the mechanism of personality. No such personality
as this which was lately present with us is the out-
come of cheap paternity and shallow motherhood.

I may seem to utter an Hibernian absurdity ; I
may recall a lively couplet which has often brought
a smile at the expense of our good city ; I may — I
hope I shall not — offend the guardians of ancient
formulae, vigilant still as watch-dogs over the bones
of their fleshless symbols, but I must be permitted
to say that I believe the second birth may precede
that which we consider as the first. The divine
renovation which changes the half-human animal,
the cave-dweller, the cannibal, into the servant of
God, the friend, the benefactor, the lawgiver of his
kind, may, I believe, be wrought in the race before
it is incarnated in the individual. It may take
many generations of chosen births to work the
transformation, but what the old chemists called
cohobation is not without its meaning for vital
chemistry ; life must pass through an alembic of
gold or of silver many times before its current can
possibly run quite clear.

A New Englander has a right to feel happ}', if
not proud, if he can quarter his coat-of-arms with
the bands of an ancestry of clergymen. Eight
generations of ministers preceded the advent of this
prophet of our time. There is no better flint to

TRIBUTES. 229

strike fire from than the old nodule of Puritanism.
Strike it against the steel of self-asserting civil free-
dom, and we get a flash and a flame such as showed
our three-hilled town to the lovers of liberty all
over the world. An ancestry of ministers, softened
out of their old-world dogmas by the same influences
which set free the colonies, is the true Brahminism
of New England.

Children of the same parentage, as we well know,
do not alike manifest the best qualities belonging
to the race. But those of the two brothers of
Ralph Waldo Emerson whom I can remember
were of exceptional and superior natural endow-
ments. Edward, next to him in order of birth, was
of the highest promise, only one evidence of which
was his standing at the head of his college class at
graduation. I recjill a tender and most impressive
tribute of Mr. Everett's to his memory, at one of
our annual Phi Beta Kappa meetings. He spoke
of the blow which had jarred the strings of his fine
intellect and made them return a sound

Like sweet bells jangled out of tune and harsh,

in the saddened tones of that rich sonorous voice
still thrilling in the ears of many whose hearing is
dulled for all the music, all the eloquence of to-day.
Of Charles Chauncy, the youngest brother, I
knew something in my college days. A beautiful,

230 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

high-soulcd, pure, exquisitely delicate nature in a
slight but finely wrought mortal frame, he was for
me the very ideal of an embodied celestial intelli-
gence. I may venture to mention a trivial circum-
stance, because it points to the character of his
favourite reading, which was likely to be guided by
the same tastes as his brothers, and may have been
specially directed by him. Coming into my room
one day, he took up a copy of Hazlitt's British
Poets. He opened it to the poem of Andrew
Marvell's, entitled " The Nymph Complaining for
the Death of her Fawn," which he read to me with
delight irradiating his expressive features. The
lines remained with me, or many of them, from
that hour, —

Had it lived long, it would have been
Lilies without, roses within.

I felt as many have felt after being with his brother,
Ralph Waldo, that I had entertained an angel
visitant. The Fawn of Marvell's imagination sur-
vives in my memory as the fitting image to recall
this beautiful youth ; a soul glowing like the rose
of morning with enthusiasm, a character white as
the lilies in its purity.

Such was the family nature lived out to its full
development in Ralph Waldo Emerson. Add to
this the special differentiating quality, indefinable

TRIBUTES. 231

as the tone of a voice, which we should know not
the less, from that of every other of articulately
speaking mortals, and we have the Emerson of our
recollections.

A person who by force of natural gifts is en-
titled to be called a personage is always a surprise
in the order of appearances, sometimes, as in the
case of Shakespeare, of Goethe, a marvel, if not a
miracle. The new phenomenon has to be studied
like the young growth that sprang up between the
stones in the story of Picciola. Is it a common
weed, or a plant with virtues and beauties of its
own ? Is it a cryptogam that can never flower, or
shall we wait and see it blossom by and by ? Is it
an endogen or an exogen, — did the seed it springs
from drop from a neighbouring bough, or was it
wafted hither on the wings of the wind from some
far-off shore ?

Time taught us what to make of this human
growth. It was not an annual or a biennial, but a
perennial ; not an herbaceous plant, but a towering
tree ; not an oak or an elm like those around it,
but rather a lofty and spreading palm, which ac-
climated itself out of its latitude, as the little group
of Southern magnolias has done in the woods of
our northern county of Essex. For Emerson's was
an Asiatic mind, drawing its sustenance partly from

232 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

the hard soil of our New England, partly, too, from
the air that has known Himalaya and the Ganges.
So impressed with this character of his mind was
Mr. Burlingame, as I saw him, after his return from
his mission, that he said to me, in a freshet of
hyperbole, which was the overflow of a channel
with a thread of truth running in it, "There are
twenty thousand Ralph Waldo Emersons in China."

What could we do with this unexpected, un-
provided for, unclassified, half unwelcome new-
comer, who had been for a while potted, as it were,
in our Unitarian cold greenhouse, but had taken
to growing so fast that he was lifting off its glass
roof and letting in the hailstorms ? Here was a
protest that outflanked the extreme left of liberalism,
yet so calm and serene that its radicalism had the
accents of the gospel of peace. Here was an icono-
clast without a hammer, who took down our idols
from their pedestals so tenderly that it seemed like
an act of worship.

The scribes and pharisees made light of his
oracular sayings. The lawyers could not find the
witnesses to subpoena and the documents to refer
to when his case came before them, and turned him
over to their wives and daughters. The ministers
denounced his heresies, and handled his writings
as if they were packages of dynamite, and the

TRIBUTES. 233

grandmothers were as much afraid of his new
teachings as old Mrs. Piozzi was of geology. We
had had revolutionary orators, reformers, martyrs ;
it was but a few years since Abner Kneeland had
been sent to jail for expressing an opinion about
the great First Cause ; but we had had nothing like
this man, with his seraphic voice and countenance,
his choice vocabulary, his refined utterance, his
gentle courage, which, with a different manner,
might have been called audacity, his temperate
statement of opinions which threatened to shake
the existing order of thought like an earthquake.

His peculiarities of style and of thinking became
fertile parents of mannerisms, which were fair game
for ridicule as they appeared in his imitators. For
one who talks like Emerson or like Carlyle soon
finds himself surrounded by a crowd of walking
phonographs, who mechanically reproduce his men-
tal and vocal accents, Emerson was before long-
talking in the midst of a babbling Simonetta of
echoes, and not unnaturally was now and then
himself a mark for the small shot of criticism. He
had soon reached that height in the " cold thin
atmosphere " of thought where

Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark his distant flight to do him wrong.

I shall add a few words, of necessity almost

234 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

epigrammatic, upon his work and character. He
dealt with life, and Hfe with him was not merely
this particular air-breathing phase of being, but the
spiritual existence which included it like a paren-
thesis between the two infinities. He wanted his
dail}' draughts of oxygen like his neighbours, and
was as thoroughly human as the plain people he
mentions who had successively owned or thought
they owned the house-lot on which he planted his
hearthstone. But he was at home no less in the
interstellar spaces outside of all the atmospheres.
The semi-materialistic idealism of Milton was a
gross and clumsy medium compared to the im-
ponderable ether of " The Oversoul " and the
unimaginable vacuum of " Brahma." He followed
in the shining and daring track of the Grains homo
of Lucretius :

Vivida vis animi pervicit, et extra
Processit longe flammantia mcenia mundi.

It always seemed to me as if he looked at this earth
very much as a visitor from another planet would
look upon it. He was interested, and to some
extent curious about it, but it was not the first
spheroid he had been acquainted with, by any
means. I have amused myself with comparing
his descriptions of natural objects with those of the
Angel Raphael in the seventh book of Paradise Lost.

TRIBUTES. 235

Emerson talks of his titmouse as Raphael talks of
his emmet. Angels and poets never deal with
nature after the manner of those whom we call
naturalists.

To judge of him as a thinker, Emerson should
have been heard as a lecturer, for his manner was
an illustration of his way of thinking. He would
lose his place just as his mind would drop its thought
and pick up another, twentieth cousin or no relation
at all to it. This went so far at times that one
could hardly tell whether he was putting together
a mosaic of coloured fragments, or only turning a
kaleidoscope where the pieces tumbled about as
they best might. It was as if he had been looking
in at a cosmic peep-show, and turning from it at
brief intervals to tell us what he saw. But what
fragments these coloured sentences were, and what
pictures they often placed before us, as if we too saw
them ! Never has this city known such audiences
as he gathered ; never was such an Olympian enter-
tainment as that which he gave them.

It is very hard to speak of Mr. Emerson's poetry ;
not to do it injustice, still more to do it justice. It
seems to me like the robe of a monarch patched by
a New England housewife. The royal tint and
stuff are unmistakable, but here and there the gray
worsted from the darning-needle crosses and ekes

236 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

out the Tyrian purple. Few poets who have written
so Httle in verse have dropped so many of those
"jewels five words long" which fall from their
setting only to be more choicely treasured. E
pbtrihis Mium is hardly more familiar to our ears
than "He builded better than he knew," and Keats's
" thing of beauty " is little better known than
Emerson's " beauty is its own excuse for being."
One may not like to read Emerson's poetry because
it is sometimes careless, almost as if carefully so,
though never undignified even when slipshod ;
spotted with quaint archaisms and strange expres-
sions that sound like the affectation of negligence,
or with plain, homely phrases, such as the self-made
scholar is always afraid of But if one likes Emer-
son's poetry he will be sure to love it ; if he loves
it, its phrases will cling to him as hardly any
others do. It may not be for the multitude, but it
finds its place like pollen-dust and penetrates to
the consciousness it is to fertilize and bring to
flower and fruit.

I have known something of Emerson as a talker,
not nearly so much as many others who can speak
and write of him. It is unsafe to tell how a great
thinker talks, for perhaps, like a city dealer with a
village customer, he has not shown his best goods
to the innocent reporter of his sayings. However

TRIBUTES. 237

that may be in this case, let me contrast in a single
glance the momentary effect in conversation of the
two neighbours, Hawthorne and Emerson. Speech
seemed like a kind of travail to Hawthorne. One
must harpoon him like a cetacean with questions
to make him talk at all. Then the w^ords came
from him at last, with bashful manifestations, like
those of a young girl, almost, — words that gasped
themselves forth, seeming to leave a great deal
more behind them than they told, and died out,
discontented with themselves, like the monologue of
thunder in the sky, which always goes off mumbling
and grumbling as if it had not said half it wanted
to, and meant to, and ought to say.

Emerson was sparing of words, but used them
with great precision and nicety. If he had been
followed about by a short-hand writing Boswell,
every sentence he ever uttered might have been
preserved. To hear him talk was like watching one
crossing a brook on stepping-stones. His noun
had to wait for its verb or its adjective until he was
ready ; then his speech would come down upon
the word he wanted, and not Worcester and
Webster could better it from all the wealth of
their huge vocabularies.

These are only slender rays of side-light on a
personality which is interesting in every aspect and

238 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

will be fully illustrated by those who knew him
best. One glimpse of him as a listener may be
worth recalling. He was always courteous and
bland to a remarkable degree ; his smile was the
well-remembered line of Terence written out in
living features. But when anything said specially
interested him he would lean toward the speaker
with a look never to be forgotten, his head stretched
forward, his shoulders raised like the wings of an
eagle, and his eye watching the flight of the thought
which had attracted his attention as if it were his
prey to be seized in mid-air and carried up to his
eyry.

To sum up briefly what would, as it seems to me,
be the text to be unfolded in his biography, he was
a man of excellent common-sense, with a genius so
uncommon that he seemed like an exotic trans-
planted from some angelic nursery. His character
was so blameless, so beautiful, that it was rather a
standard to judge others by than to find a place
for on the scale of comparison. Looking at life
with the profoundest sense of its infinite significance,
he was yet a cheerful optimist, almost too hopeful,
peeping into every cradle to see if it did not hold a
babe with the halo of a new Messiah about it. He
enriched the treasure-house of literature, but, what
was far more, he enlarged the boundaries of thought

TRIBUTES. 239

for the few that followed him and the many who
never knew, and do not know to-day, what hand it
was which took down their prison walls. He was
a preacher who taught that the religion of humanity
included both those of Palestine, nor those alone,
and taught it with such consecrated lips that the
narrowest bigot was ashamed to pray for him, as
from a footstool nearer to the throne. "Hitch your
wagon to a star ;" this was his version of the divine
lesson taught by that holy George Herbert whose
words he loved. Give him whatever place belongs
to him in our literature, in the literature of our
language, of the world, but remember this : the end
and aim of his being was to make truth lovely
and manhood valorous, and to bring our daily
life nearer and nearer to the eternal, immortal,
invisible.

After the address of Dr. Holmes, the Rev. James
Freeman Clarke, D.D., spoke of his long acquaint-
ance with Mr. Emerson, and read several interesting
extracts from letters which he had received from
him at an early period of his career. At the close
of his remarks, Dr. Clarke presented the following
resolution, which was adopted by a rising vote.

Resolved, — That this Society unites in the wide-
spread expression of esteem, gratitude, and affec-
tionate reverence paid to the memory of our late

240 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

associate, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and recognises
the great influence exercised by his character and
writings to elevate, purify, and quicken the thought
of our time.

William Henry Channing o.n Emerson.

In a letter to the editor of the "Modern Review"
for October, 1882, Mr. Channing regrets that ill-
health has prevented him from bearing his promised
testimony to Emerson in the " Review." He had
written a voluminous heap of MSS. amidst recurring
attacks of illness, but finds that neither strength
nor time permit him to re-write or condense it fitly.
" This disappointment causes regret, because my
hope was to bring into brighter light the rare
blending of the Spiritual with the Intellectual in
Emerson's life and aims. For, though by common
consent scholars of the Anglo-American race ac-
knowledge him as the grandest ' Representative
Man ' of Genius of the Western Republic, by his
embodiment in thought of her purest Ideal —
apparently, they fail to see that, by his pre-eminent
Virtue in character and life, he stood as a Real
Type of that Personal Greatness, towards which he
welcomed his compeers everywhere to aspire.

TRIBUTES. 241

" How unique, in quickening influence and in-
spiring energy, his Genius and Personal Greatness
were, appears in this. As one reads with impartial
judgment the tributes of grateful love, which already
have been offered up in his honour — [Mr. Channing
then briefly refers to the various notices, addresses,
discourses, sermons, &c., relating to Emerson] — he
is cheered to find that, among these mirrored forms
of Emerson, there is scarcely one which has not
caught characteristic splendour from his glowing
beauty, translucent truthfulness, humane magnani-
mity, and symmetric manhood.

" Difficult would it be to add words of worth to
the manifold testimonials of our friend's tran-
scending excellence, as exemplar, guide, inciter,
and illuminator. Indeed, it seems presumptuous to
describe Emerson at all ! For has he not, through-
out his works, imaged himself unconsciously, in
each alternate tendency, mood, attainment, aspira-
tion, with such luminous fidelity, that it seems
irreverent to copy, with a blunt pencil, portraits
exquisitely perfected in characters of light ? One
feels prompted, rather, to say to new students of
the Sage of Concord's writings : Would you know
aright this Prophet of the Soul, as he lived, read his
Orations, Addresses, Essays, Poems, and especially
the earlier ones, such as ' Nature,' ' The American
Q

242 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Scholar,' 'Literary Ethics,' 'The Method of
Nature,' &c., reading what is inscribed with sym-
pathetic ink between the Hnes, and yielding to the
impressions made on heart and conscience, yet more
than on critical intellect, by these Confessions — and
you shall behold this beautiful Person as he was in
character, as in conduct he irradiated the scenes he
moved among, and as he was known inmostly to God
and guardian angels. There he stands revealed !
For if man ever did, he wrote in hearts' blood,
according to Sidney's maxim, ' Look in your heart
and write.' The very passage of Autobiography,
wherein this maxim is quoted — the Essay on
' Spiritual Laws ' — is a transcript from his Diary :
' The way to speak and write what shall not go
out of fashion is to speak and write sincerely. The
argument which has not power to reach my own
practice, I may well doubt, will fail to reach yours.
He that writes to himself writes to an eternal
public'

"A second difficulty, in attempting to sketch
Emerson, is that no two observers saw the same
man. Unchangingly faithful to his own spirit, as
he was, he yet presented ever new phases to the
persons he met, according to their quality. And
each onlooker saw that side only which his own
vision was fitted to discern. So must it be with

TRIBUTES. 243

his works. One is inclined, therefore, to whisper
in the ear of his critics : Beware how you judge
this whole-souled brother, for you go to judgment
yourself in the estimate you are enlightened and
just, humble and loving enough to form of one
who so earnestly listened to the ' Over Soul.'
This man was, in the best sense, a high-bred
Christian Gentleman ; but no Stoic was ever more
nobly proud, no Puritan more sternly upright.
He scorned pretension, had shrewd insight into
character, and, as he says of Nature, ' knew how,
without swell, brag, strain, or shock, to keep firm
common sense, " Semper sibi similise '

"Then a final hindrance to declaring what one's
heart prompts him to say of this singularly imper-
sonal person is, that the friends who revered him
most highly, most scrupulously withheld the least
allusion which might be vitiated by praise, for the
reason that they knew how devoutly he referred all
goodness and wisdom to the ever-present Inspirer,
with whom he sought to dwell in calm communion,
unruffled by a breath of self-love. Well does his
confidential comrade, Alcott, write of the ' one sub-
traction from the pleasure of his books, his pains
to be impersonal or discrete, as if he feared any the
least intrusion of himself were an offence offered to
self-respect, the courtesy due to intercourse and

244 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

authorship.' And who can forget the passage in
his essay on ' Friendship ' where he writes : ' Let
me be alone to the end of the world rather than that
my friend should overstep, by a word or a look, his
real sympathy, I am equally baulked by antago-
nism and by compliance. Let him not cease to be
himself an instant. I hate, where I looked for a
manly furtherance, or a manly resistance, to find a
mush of concession. . . . Friendship demands
religious treatment. Reverence is a great part of
it. . . . Should not the society of my friend be
to me poetic, pure, universal, as Nature itself?'"

" My conviction is firm, that hereafter Emerson
will be recognised universally as a izx grander style
of Person than has been apprehended, as yet, except
by the few drawn within the sphere of his close
fellowship. To them he was peerless. Merely by
living he opened new possibilities of personal being,
of human society, of heavenly communion, of im-
mortality begun on earth. But why present a
blurred copy of his Ideal-Real when we have the
original pictured with sunbeams, in this sublime
outburst : ' I stand here to say : — Let us worship
the mighty and transcendent Soul. The lovers of
Goodness have been one class, the students of Wis-
dom another, as if either could exist in purity
without the other. Truth is always holy, holiness

TRIBUTES. 245

always wise. I will that wc keep terms with sin
and a sinful literature and society no longer, but
live a life of discovery and performance. Accept
the intellect and it will accept us. Be the lowly
ministers of that pure omniscience and deny it not
before men. It will burn up all profane literature,
all base, current opinions, all false powers of the
world, as in a moment of time. I draw from Nature
the lesson of Intimate Divinity. The sanity of
man needs the poise of this immanent force. His
nobility needs the assurance of this inexhaustible
reserved power. . . . The doctrine of this
Supreme presence is a cry of exultation and joy.
. . , I praise with w^onder this great Reality,
which drowns all things in its deluge of Light.
. . . The natural history of the Soul we cannot
describe, but we know that it is Divine. . . .
From this faith I draw courage and hope. Let
those fear and fawn who will. The Soul is in her
native realm, and it is wider than space, older than
time, wide as hope, rich as love. Pusillanimity and
fear she refuses with beautiful scorn ; they are not
for her, who putteth on her coronation robes, and
goes out through universal love to universal power.' "

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS.

Emerson's House and Surroundings.

" Emerson," says Mr. Cooke, " has been most
fortunate in all his domestic relations ; while the
surroundings of his life have been such as he could
desire, and they have been helpful to the life he
has sought to live. His house has been well
adapted to a scholar's wants, both as to its location
and construction. About the house is a little
farm ; and he owns a wood-lot on the west shore
of Walden Pond, where Thoreau's hut once stood."
His home has been described in these words : —

A roomy barn stands near the house, and behind lies a little
farm of nearly a dozen acres. The whole external .appearance of
the place suggests old-fashioned comfort and hospitality. Within
the house the flavour of antiquity is still more noticeable. Old pic-
tures look down from the walls ; quaint blue and white china holds
the simple dinner; old furniture brings to mind the generations of
the past. Just at the right, as you enter, is Mr. Emerson's library,
a large, square room, plainly furnished, but made pleasant by pictures

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 247

and sunshine. The homely shelves which line the walls are well
filled with books. There is a lack of showy covers or rich bindings,
and each volume seems to have soberly grown old in constant
service. Mr. Emerson's study is a quiet room up stairs, and there
each day he is steadily at work, despite advancing years.

When Frederika Bremer called one day at his
house, she did not find him at home. Going into
his library, she thus describes it : —

I went for a moment into Emerson's study,— a large room, in
which every thing was simple, orderly, unstudied, comfortable.
No refined feeling of beauty has converted the room into a temple,
in which stands the forms of the heroes of science and literature.
Ornament is banished from the sanctuary of the stoic philosopher ;
the furniture is comfortable, but of a grave character, merely as
implements of usefulness ; one large picture only is in the room,
but this hangs there vi^ith a commanding power ; it is a large oil-
painting, a copy of Michael Angelo's glorious ParcEe, the goddess
of fate.

Some years ago, Mr. M, D. Conway called on
him, and describes his visit, giving us a further
glimpse of his study : —

My note of introduction was presented, and my welcome was
cordial. Emerson was, apparently, yet young; he was tall, slender,
of light complexion ; his step was elastic, his manner easy and sim-
ple ; and his voice at once relieved me of the trembling vi'ith which
I stood before him, — the first great man I had ever seen. He pro-
posed to take me on a walk ; and whilst he was preparing, I had
the opportunity of looking about the library. Over the mantel
hung an excellent copy of Michael Angelo's Parcre ; on it there
were two statuettes of Goethe, of whom also there were engraved
copies on the walls. Afterwards Emerson showed me eight or ten
portraits of Goethe which he had collected. The next in favour

248 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

was Dante, of whom he had all the known likenesses, including
various photographs of the mask of Dante, made at Ravenna. Be-
sides portraits of Shakspere, Montaigne, and Swedenborg, I re-
member nothing else on the walls of the library. The book -shelves
were well filled with select works ; amongst which I was only struck
with the many curious Oriental productions, some in Sanscrit. He
had, too, many editions in Greek and English, of Plato, which had
been carefully read and marked. The furniture of the room was
antique and simple. There were, on one side of the room, four con-
siderable shelves, completely occupied by his MSS. ; of which there
were enough, one might suppose, to have furnished a hundred
volumes instead of the seven which he has given to the world,
though under perpetual pressure for more from the publishers and
the public.

" Emerson's house is of the old New England
sort, large and hospitable in its very construction.
A long hall divides it through the middle. By the
side of the entrance stands a table, over which is a
picture of Diana. His book-shelves are very plain,
and reach to the ceiling. A fire-place fills one end
of the study, and has high brass andirons ; while
on the antique mantel over it may now be found,
among other articles, a small idol from the Nile.
On the other end is a bronze lamp of antique
pattern, such as is often pictured to represent the
light of science. Back of this room is the large
parlour, in which visitors are received, and where
many a conversation party has been held. The
gate always remains open. The path from the
house to the road is lined with tall chestnut trees.

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 249

At the back of the house is a garden of half-an-
acre, where both Emerson and his wife are wont to
labour — he is passionately fond of flowers, and
grows them in profusion. Great numbers of roses
are in bloom here in June, while there is a bed of
hollyhocks of many varieties. A small brook runs
across his land and pours into the river."

In "Scribner's Monthly Magazine" for February,
1879, will be found an interesting descriptive article,
entitled "The Homes and Haunts of Emerson," by
his friend Mr. F. B. Sanborn. This article is en-
riched with views of Emerson's house and study,
the Old Manse, a view of Concord from Lee's Hill,
Walden Pond, The Alcott House, the graves of
Hawthorne and Thoreau in Sleepy Hollow, &c.

Emerson at Home.

George William Curtis, an accomplished author
and orator, who at one time lived at Concord, thus
spoke of Emerson's home : — " It is always morning
within these doors. If you have nothing to say, if
you are really not an envoy from some kingdom or
colony of thought, and cannot cast a gem upon the
heaped pile, you had better pass by upon the other
side. For it is the peculiarity of Emerson's mind
to be ever on the alert. He eats no lotus, but for
ever quaffs the waters which engender immortal

250 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

thirst. . . . The fame of the philosopher attracts
admiring friends and enthusiasts from every quarter,
and the scholarly grace and urbane hospitality of
the gentleman send them charmed away. ... It
is not hazardous to say that the greatest questions
of our day and of all days have been nowhere more
amply discussed, with more poetic insight or more
profound conviction, than in the comely square
white house upon the edge of the Lexington turn-
pike. . . . 'I chide society, I embrace solitude,'
he says, 'and yet I am not so ungrateful as not to
see the wise, the lovely, and the noble-minded, as
from time to time they pass my gate.' It is not
difficult to understand his fondness for the spot.
He has always been familiar with it, always more
or less a resident of the village. Born in Boston
upon the spot where Channery Place Church now
stands, part of his youth was passed in the Old
Manse, which was built by his grandfather, and in
which his father was born ; and there he wrote
' Nature.' The imagination of the man who roams
the solitary pastures of Concord, or floats dreaming
down its river, will easily see its landscape upon
Emerson's page. If there be something oriental
in his philosophy and tropical in his imagination,
they have yet a strong flavour of his mother earth —
the underivcd sweetness of the open Concord sky,

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 251

and the spacious breadth of the Concord horizon."
In 1845 there was something Hke a club formed,
whose members met in Emerson's library on Mon-
day evenings. This library is described by Mr.
Curtis. "It is a simple square room, not walled with
books like the den of a literary grub, nor merely
elegant like the ornamental retreat of a dilettante.
The books are arranged upon plain shelves, not
in architectural bookcases, and the room is hung
with a few choice engravings of the greatest men.
There was a fair copy of Michael Angelo's ' Fates,'
which, properly enough, imparted that grave serenity
to the ornament of the room which is always ap-
parent in what is written there." Here the scholars
met at their symposium. " Plato " (Alcott) " was
perpetually putting apples of gold in pictures of
silver ; for such was the rich ore of his thoughts,
coined by the deep melody of his voice. Orson "
(Thoreau) " charmed us with the secrets won from
his interviews with Pan in the Walden woods —
while Emerson, with the zeal of an engineer trying
to dam wild waters, sought to bind the wide-flying
embroidery of discourse into a web of clear sweet
sense. . . . Miles Coverdale" (Hawthorne), "a
statue of night and silence, sat, a little removed,
under a portrait of Dante, gazing imperturbably
upon the group ; and as he sat in the shadow, his

252 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

dark hair and eyes and suit of sable made him, in
that society, the black thread of mystery he weaves
into his stories."

Mr. Alcott once wrote thus of Emerson : —
" Fortunate the visitor who is admitted of a
morning for the high discourse, or permitted to
join the poet in his afternoon walks to Walden,
the Cliffs, or elsewhere, — hours to be remembered
as unlike any others in the calendar of experiences.
Shall I describe them as sallies oftenest into the
cloudlands, — into scenes and intimacies ever new,
none the less novel nor remote than when first
experienced ? — interviews, however, bringing their
own trail of perplexing thoughts, — costing some
days' duties, several nights' sleep oftentimes, to
restore one to his place and poise. Certainly
safer not to venture without the sure credentials,
unless one will have his pretensions pricked, his
conceits reduced in their vague dimensions. But
to the modest, the ingenuous, the gifted — welcome !
nor can any bearing be more poetic and polite to
all such, — to }'OUth and accomplished women
especially. His is a faith approaching to super-
stition concerning admirable persons, the rumour
of excellence of any sort being like the arrival of
a new gift to mankind, and he the first to proffer
his recognition and hope."

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 253

Concord was for many years a kind of Mecca to
which many a devout and faithful pilgrim resorted.
" Young visionaries (in the words of Hawthorne),
to whom just so much of insight had been im-
parted as to make life all a labyrinth around them,
came to seek the clew that should lead them out of
their self-involved bewilderment. Grey-headed
theorists — whose systems, at first air, had im-
prisoned them in an iron framework — travelled
painfully to his door, not to ask deliverance, but
to invite the free spirit into their own thraldom.
People that had lighted on a new thought, or
a thought that they fancied new, came to Emerson,
as the finder of a glittering gem hastens to a
lapidary to ascertain its value. For myself, there
had been epochs in my life when it, too, might
have asked of this prophet the master-word that
should solve me the riddle of the universe ; but
now, being happ)-, I felt as if there were no
question to be put, and therefore admired Emerson
as a poet of deep beauty and austere tenderness,
but sought nothing from him as a philosopher."

A writer in the " Chicago Times," a few years
ago, thus wrote from his own knowledge of
Emerson : — " Although one of the severest of
students and most abstract of philosophers, he
always emerges from his library to the family

254 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

circle with evident satisfaction. Notwithstanding
a certain gravity of manner, he is full of geniality
and bonJioinie, and is never more eloquent and
charming than when away from his books and
manuscripts. He is very fond of children and
young people; loves to talk and walk with them,
and listens to them as if they were revealing the
oracles of the gods. No man in Concord is more
popular or accessible than he. He is fully in sym-
pathy with the old town ; he reveres and honours
it, and says he would not exchange it for New
York, Athens, Rome, or Paris. To get a clear and
adequate conception of Emerson, one must see
him at home, in undress, so to speak, if he may be
considered as ever in uniform, who is the soul of
simplicity and sincerity. He is the kindest of
husbands, the most considerate of fathers. It is
related of him that when any thought strikes him,
when any suggestion occurs, or any pat quotation
is recalled, he invariably stops the thing he is doing
and jots down the thought or suggestion for future
use or reference. Even in the middle of the night
he observes this habit, knowing that a good thing
may be lost forever unless recorded. . .
Nobody has ever seen him out of temper, or even
ruffled. He is the embodiment of calm courtesy, of
placid refinement — the very reverse of the supremely

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 255

nervous, irritable being an author is believed to be,
and often is, in truth."

Emerson as a Listener. — His Conversation.

" He is one of the best of listeners," says Mr.
Cooke, "whoever may be speaking, seeming to
drink in all that is said, and giving the approval
of his gracious smile to whatever attracts his
attention. He is even more ready to listen than
to speak. What he says is to the point, clearly
stated, and in a serious, earnest tone ; but his
conversation is not brilliant in those ways which
gave to Margaret Fuller's marvellous conversational
powers a place of their own. It is not his to fasci-
nate and attract by the ceaseless monologue of a
versatile talker ; for he would make conversation
an act of friendship, and finds its charm broken by
the presence of more than two. Yet he always
speaks wisely, and with a charm and interest all his
own. He does not talk easily or much, and needs
the stimulus of a sympathetic and vigorous mind
to draw out his best treasures of thought. In the
midst of a company of bright minds he is not exu-
berant, never bubbles over ; but what he says is
marked by a keen wit, and a full wisdom, rich,
appropriate, and remarkable. His conversation,
when his mind is stimulated by a great theme and

256 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

a sympathetic friend, is inspiring even beyond his
lectures ; and then he pours forth his thought in the
purest strain of noble words. In this way, his in-
fluence over his friends has been very great ; and
to many a mind his conversation has been an in-
spiration."

Mr. M. D. Conway, in an article in " Fraser's
Magazine" for August, 1867, gives the following
account of Emerson's conversation. The latter
took his visitor to Walden Pond, where they rowed,
bathed, and talked : —

Having bathed, we sat down on the shore ; and then Walden
and her beautiful woods began to utter their peeans through his lips.
Emerson's conversation was different from that of any person I have
ever met with, and unequalled by that of any one, unless it be that
of Thomas Carlyle. Of course there is no comparison of the two
possible, but the contrasts between them are very striking and
significant. In speaking of that which he conceives to be ignorant
error, Mr. Carlyle is vehement ; and when he suspects an admixture
of falsehood and hypocrisy, his tone is that of rage ; and although his
indignation is noble and the utterances always thrilling, yet when
one recurs to the little man or thing at which they are often levelled,
it seems to be like the bombardment of a sparrow's nest with shot
and shell. On such Emerson merely darts a spare beam of his wit,
beneath which a lie is sure to shrivel ; but if he breaks any one on
his wheel, it must be some one who has been admitted at the banquet
of the gods, and violated their laws. Every one who has witnessed
the imperial dignity, or felt the weight of authentic knowledge,
which characterize Mr. Carlyle's conversation, to such an extent that
even his light utterances seem to stand out like the pillars of Hercules,
must also have felt the earth tremble before the thunders and light-
nings of his wrath ; but with Emerson, though the same falsehood is

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 257

fatally smitten, it is by the invisible, inaudible sun-stroke, which has
left the sky as brifrht and blue as before. For the rest, and when
abstract truths and principles are discussed, whilst Carlyle astonishes
us by the range of his sifted knowledge, he does not convey an equal
impression of having originally thought out the various problems in
other departments than those which are plainly his own ; but there
is scarcely a realm of science or art in which Emerson could not be
to some extent the instructor of the Academies. Agassiz, as I have
heard him say, prefers his conversation on scientific questions to that
of any other. I remember him on that day at Walden as Bunyan's
Pilgrim might have remembered the Interpreter. The growths
around, the arrow-head, and the orchis, were intimations of that
mystic unity in nature, which is the fountain of poetry to him ;
either of these, or of many others of the remarkably rich fauna of
that region, excited emotions much more solemn than the aesthetic
in him. He fully felt that if we only knew how to look around, we
would not have need to look above.

Frederika Bremer's Visit to Emerson.

In her " Homes of the New World," Miss
Bremer gives the following account of a visit she
paid to Mr. Emerson at his home in Concord, in
1849: — -"During the four days that I remained
in Emerson's house I had a real enjoyment in
the study of this strong, noble, eagle-like nature.
Any near approximation was, as it were, imper-
fect, because our characters and views are funda-
mentally dissimilar, and that secret antagonism
which exists in me towards him, spite of my
admiration, would at times awake, and this easily
called forth his icy-alp nature, repulsive and chill}'.
R

258 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

But this is not the original nature of the man-
he does not rightly thrive in it, and he gladly
throws it off if he can, and is much happier, as one
can see, in a mild and sunny atmosphere where
the natural beauty of his being may breathe freely
and expand into blossom, touched by that of
others as by a living breeze.

" I enjoyed the contemplation of him in his
demeanour, his expression, his mode of talking,
and his every-day life, as I enjoy contemplating
the calm flow of a river bearing along and between
flowery shores large and small vessels, as I love to
see the eagle circling in the clouds, resting upon
them and its pinions. In this calm elevation
Emerson allows nothing to reach him, neither great
nor small, neither prosperity nor adversity.

" Pantheistic as Emerson is in his Philosophy,
in the moral view with which he regards the world
and life, he is in a high degree pure, noble, and
severe, demanding as much from himself as he
demands from others. His words are severe,
his judgment often keen and merciless, but his
•demeanour is alike noble and pleasing and his
voice beautiful.

" One may quarrel with Emerson's thoughts,
with his judgment, but not with himself That
which struck me most, as distinguishing him from

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 259

most other human beings, is nobility. He is a
born nobleman. I have seen before two other men
born with this stamp upon them — his excellency

W r, in Sweden, and is the second,

Emerson the third which has it, and perhaps in a
yet higher degree ; and added thereto that deep
intonation of voice, that expression so mild yet
so elevated at the same time. I could not but
think of Maria Lowell's words, 'If he merely
mention my name, I feel myself ennobled.'

" I enjoyed Emerson's conversation, which
flowed as calmly and easily as a deep and placid
river. It was animating to me both when I agreed
and when I dissented ; there is always a something
important in what he says, and he listens well
and comprehends and replies well also. But
whether it was the weariness of the spirit or
whether a feeling of esteem for his peace and free-
dom, I know not, but I did not invite his conversa-
tion. When it came it was good, when it did not
come it was good also, especially if he were in the
room. His presence was agreeable to me. He
was amiable in his attention to me and in his mode
of entertaining me as a stranger and guest in his
house.

" This is what I wished to say to Emerson,
what I endeavoured to say, but I know not how

26o RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

I did it. I cannot usually express myself either
easily or successfully until I become warm and
get beyond or through the first thoughts; and
Emerson's cool, and as it were circumspect, manner
prevented me from getting into my own natural
region. I like to be with him, but when with him
I am never fully myself. I do not believe that
I now expressed myself intelligibly to him. He
listened calmly, and said nothing decidedly against
it, nor yet seemed inclined to give his views as
definite. He seemed to me principally to be
opposed to blind or hypocritical faith. ' I do not
wish,' said he, ' that people should pretend to know
or to believe more than they really do know and
believe. The resurrection, the continuance of our
being, is granted,' said he also ; ' we carry the
pledges of this in our own breast. I maintain
merely that we cannot say in what form or in
what manner our existence will be continued.'
If my conversation with Emerson did not lead to
anything very satisfactory, it led, nevertheless, to
my still more firm conviction of his nobility and
love of truth. He is faithful to the law in his own
breast, and speaks out the truth which he inwardly
recognises. He does right. By this means he will
prepare the way for a more true comprehension of
religion and of life. For when once this keen

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 261

glance, seeing into the innermost of everything,
once becomes aware of the concealed human form
in the tree of life — like Napoleon's in the tree
of St. Helena — then will he teach others to see
it too, will point it out by such strong, new,
and glorious words that a fresh light \\\\\ spring
up before many, and people will believe because
they see."

The Young Preacher.

Mr. Charles T. Congdon, a veteran American
journalist, in a series of papers in the New York
"Tribune" in 1879, entitled " Reminiscences of a
Journalist," gives some recollections of Emerson
before he had abandoned his ministerial connec-
tion with the Unitarian body : — " It is curious that
I should first have heard the lovable voice of Ralph
Waldo Emerson, when he w^as the Rev. Waldo
Emerson. One day there came into our pulpit the
most gracious of mortals, with a face all benignity,
who gave out the first hymn and made the first
prayer as an angel might have read and prayed.
Our choir was a pretty good one, but its best was
coarse and discordant after Emerson's voice. I
remember of the sermon only that it had an
indefinite charm of simplicity, quaintness, and
wisdom, with occasional illustrations from nature,

262 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

which were about the most delicate and dainty
things of the kind whicli I had ever heard. I
could understand them, if not the fresh philoso-
phical novelty of the discourse. Mr. Emerson
preached for us for a good many Sundays, lodging
in the home of a Quaker lady, just below ours.
Seated at my own door, I saw him often go by,
and once in the exuberance of my childish admira-
tion I ventured to nod to him and to say ' Good
morning ! ' To my astonishment, he also nodded
and smilingly said ' Good morning ! ' and that is
all the conversation I ever had with the sage of
Concord — not enough, decidedly, for a reminiscent
volume about him after he has left a world, which
he has made wiser and happier. He gave us after-
ward two lectures based upon his travels abroad,
and was at a great deal of trouble to hang up
prints, by way of illustration. There was a picture
of the tribune in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence,
painted by one of our townsmen, and I recall Mr.
Emerson's great anxiety that it should have a good
light, and his lamentation when a good light was
found to be impossible. The lectures themselves
were so fine — enchanting we found them — that I
have hungered to see them in print, and have
thought of the evenings upon which they were
delivered as ' true Arabian nights.' "

miscellaneous records. 263

Emerson Hissed while Speaking Against
"The Fugitive Slave Law."

In all Emerson's experience as a lecturer there
was only one occasion when he received that
tribute to a radical orator's timely eloquence which
is expressed in hisses. The passage of the Fugitive
Slave Law stirred him into unwonted moral passion
and righteous wrath. He accepted an invitation to
deliver a lecture in Cambridgeport, called for the
purpose of protesting against that infamous anomaly
in jurisprudence and insult to justice which had the
impudence to call itself a law. Those who sympa-
thised with him were there in force ; but a score or
two of foolish Harvard students came down from
the college to the hall where the lecture was
delivered determined to assert " the rights of the
South," and to preserve the threatened Union of
the States. They were the rowdiest, noisiest, most
brainless set of young gentlemen that ever pre-
tended to be engaged in studying "the humanities"
at the chief university of the country. Their only
arguments were hisses and groans whenever the
most illustrious of American men of letters uttered
an opinion which expressed the general opinion of
the civilised world. If he quoted Coke, Holt,
Blackstone, Mansfield, they hissed all these sages

264 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

of the law because their judgments came from the
illegal lips of Emerson. It was curious to watch
him as, at each point he made, he paused to let the
storm of hisses subside. The noise was something
he had never heard before ; there was a queer,
quizzical squirrel-like or bird-like expression in his
eye as he calmly looked round to see what strange
human animals were present to make such sounds;
and when he proceeded to utter another indisputable
truth, and it was responded to by another chorus
of hisses, he seemed absolutely to enjoy the new
sensation he experienced, and waited for these
signs of disapprobation to stop altogether before
he resumed his discourse. The experience was
novel ; still there was not the slightest tremor
in his voice, not even a trace of the passionate
resentment which a speaker under such circum-
stances and impediments usually feels, and which
urges him into the cheap retort about serpents, but
a quiet waiting for the time when he should be
allowed to go on with the next sentence. During
the whole evening he ne\-er uttered a word which
was not written down in the manuscript from which
he read. Many of us at the time urged Emerson
to publish the lecture ; ten or fifteen years after,
when he was selecting material for a new volume
of essays, I entreated him to include in it the old

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 265

lecture at Cambridgeport ; but he, after deliberation,
refused, feeling probably that being written under
the impulse of the passion of the day, it was no fit
and fair summary of the characters of the states-
men he assailed. Of one passage in the lecture I
preserve a vivid remembrance. After affirming
that the eternal law of righteousness, which rules
all created things, nullified the enactment of Con-
gress, and after citing the opinion^ of several mag-
nates of jurisprudence, that immoral laws are void
and of no effect, he slowly added, in a scorching
and biting irony of tone which no words can
describe, "but still a little Episcopalian clerg}'man
assured me yesterday that the Fugitive Slave Law
must be obeyed and enforced." After the lapse of
thirty years, the immense humour of bringing all
the forces of nature, all the principles of religion,
and all the decisions of jurists to bear with their
Atlas weight on the shoulders of one poor little
conceited clergyman to crush him to atoms, and he
in his innocence not conscious of it, makes me
laugh now as all the audience laughed then, the
belligerent Harvard students included. — Some
Recollections of Emerson, by Edwin P. Whipple, in
"Harper's Monthly Magazine," September, 1882.

266 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

m

A Mother's Conversation with Emerson
IN A Railway Car.

Many years ago, I was one day journeying from
Brattleboro to Boston, alone. As the train went
on from station to station, it gradually filled, until
there was no seat left unoccupied in the car except-
ing the one by my side. At Concord, the door of
the car opened, ,and Mr. Emerson entered. He
advanced a few steps into the car, looked down the
aisle, turned, and was about to go out, believing
the car to be entirely full. With one of those sud-
den impulses which are acted upon almost before
they are consciously realised, I sprang up, and said,
" Oh, Mr. Emerson, here is a seat."

As he came towards me, with his serene smile
slowly spreading over his face, my courage faltered.
I saw that he expected to meet in me an acquain-
tance, and as he looked inquiringly and hesitatingly
in my face 1 made haste to say, "You do not know
me, Mr. Emerson ; I never had the pleasure of
seeing you before. But I know your face, and I
could not resist the temptation of the opportunity
to speak with you. You know that so many
people, who are strangers to you, know you very
well."

" Perhaps there should not be the word stranger

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 267

in any language," he answered slowly, in a tone
and with a kindly look which at once set my
timidity at ease, " I do not know any good reason
for it."

In a short time, with that rare faculty which he
had for drawing out of each his inmost thought, he
had led me into speaking to him, with half-faniiliar
freedom, of my own personal history, and of my
experience as a mother. Hardly by question so
much as by tone and expression, he made me feel
at liberty to confide to him some of the many
perplexities and doubts with which every young
mother's heart is burdened.

His replies were more in the form of suggestions
than of solutions to the doubts, or direct meeting
of the perplexities. He told me much of his own
theories, somewhat of his own experience. Many
of his words remained vividly present with me for
years, and more than once recurred to my mind in
situations when they bore the weight and came in
with the appropriateness of specific advice, in im-
mediate emergencies. One point I recollect, as
most earnestly dwelt upon, was the unspeakable
value of simplicity of life and surroundings as an
agency in the formation of character. Of this he
spoke at length, and with great fervour. He said
that the children of rich men were born at such

268 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

disadvantage in this respect that it was a question
if all their other advantages, such as educational
faculties, travel, etc., could make up for it.

"This is the true meaning," he said, half
humorously, " of a scripture which is much mis-
quoted,— that it is easier for a camel to go through
the gye of a needle than for a rich man to enter
into the kingdom of heaven. It does not mean
that the rich man must necessarily find it harder
not to sin than another man ; on the contrary, he
is removed from some of the deadliest forms of
temptation to sin. But the kingdom of heaven,
which the creative worker knows, is shut against
him. Into that heaven we have to be driven, either
by need or by the narrowing of the ministering
horizons of our lives."

One sentence which he spoke in connection
with this was said with such lingering emphasis
that it stamped itself indelibly on my memory.
He said, " When I think how I am sparing my boy
all that made me, — the barefooted chambers and
the stern denials of poverty, — I knov/ I am making
a mistake. But," he added after a pause," " I can-
not help it."

In later years I had the privilege and pleasure
of seeing Mr. Emerson frequently. At one time I
spent a few days with him in a friend's house at

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 269

Newport, Rhode Island. There was something in
the dreamy serenity of the bay upon which my
friend's house stood that greatly charmed Mr.
Emerson, and his remark at first looking out o\'er
the water was a characteristic one. It was from
the dining-room windows that he looked. We had
given him a seat from which he could see the bay.
As we took our places for breakfast he gazed
across the shining silver surface, and said half
dreamily, " And are there any clocks in Newport ? "
It was some minutes before anyone perceived the
precise drift of this question, and during the brief
interval of our bewilderment the smile on Mr.
Emerson's face deepened and spread until his
whole countenance beamed with humorous enjoy-
ment of our perplexity.

How precious is every memory of those days I
The tender, yet beneficent, way in which Mr.
Emerson listened for replies to the searching
questions he sometimes put had in it a certain
expression of unconscious royalty that no words
could convey ; and it kindled in one's breast that
mingled sentiment of affection and incentive to
all possible effort, for which allegiance is the onl}-
fitting name. As time goes on it will be more and
more sure that he is the one truest representative
our republic has borne, his thought and his words the

270 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

truest rendering of the republic's idea, and his life
and character the truest fulfilling of the republic's
ideal— "Atlantic Monthly," September, 1882.

Awkward Position while on a Lecturing

Tour.

Many of Emerson's friends and acquaintances
thought that his sense of humour was almost as
keen as his sense of Beauty and his sense of Right.
I do not remember an instance in my conversa-
tions with him, when the question came up of his
being not understood, or, what is worse, misunder-
stood by the public, that he did not treat the
matter in an exquisitely humorous way, telling
the story of his defeats in making himself com-
prehended by the audience or the readers he
addressed as if the misapprehensions of his meaning
were properly subjects of mirth, in which he could
heartily join. This is the test of the humourist,
that he can laugh ivith those who laugh at him.
For example, on one occasion I recollect saying
that of all his college addresses I thought the best
was that on " The Method of Nature," delivered
before the Society of the Adelphi, in Waterville
College, Maine, August 11, 1841. He then gave
me a most amusing account of the circumstances
under which the oration was delivered. It seems

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 271

that after conceiving the general idea of the
address, he banished himself to Nantasket Beach,
secluded himself for a fortnight in a room in the
public-house, the windows of which looked out on
the ocean, moving from his chamber and writing-
desk only to take early morning and late evening
walks on the beach ; and thought, at the end, he
had produced something which was worthy of being
listened to even by the Society of the Adelphi.
At that time a considerable portion of the journey
to Waterville had to be made by stage. He arrived
late in the evening, travel-worn and tired out, when
almost all the sober inhabitants of Waterville had
gone to bed. It appeared that there was some
doubt as to the particular citizen's house at which
he was to pass the night. " The stage-driver,"
said Emerson, " stopped at one door ; rapped
loudly ; a window was opened ; something in a
night-gown asked what he wanted ; the stage-
driver replied that he had inside a man who said
he was to deliver the lit-ra-rye oration to-morrow,
and thought he was to stop there ; but the night-
gown disappeared, with the chilling remark that he
was not to stay at his house. Then we went to
another, and still another dwelling, rapped, saw
similar night-gowns and heard similar voices at
similar raised windows ; and it was only after

272 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

repeated disturbances of the peace of the place that
the right house was hit, where I found a hospitable
reception. The next day I delivered my oration,
which was heard with cold, silent, unresponsive
attention, in which there seemed to be a continuous
unuttered rebuke and protest. The services were
closed by prayer, and the good man who prayed,
prayed for the orator, but also warned his hearers
against heresies and wild notions, which appeared
to me of that kind for which I was held respon-
sible. The address was really written in the heat
and happiness of what I thought a real inspiration ;
but all the warmth was extinguished in that lake
of iced water." The conversation occurred so long
ago that I do not pretend to give Emerson's exact
words, but this was the substance of his ludicrous
statement of the rapture with which he had written
what was so frigidly received. He seemed intensely
to enjoy the fun of his material discomforts and his
spiritual discomfiture. — Some Recollections of Ejiier-
soii, by Edwin P. Whipple, in " Harper's Monthly
Magazine," September, 1882.

Mr. Alcott and hls Daughters.

The following account of the venerable Mr. A.
Bronson Alcott, Emerson's life-long friend, still
living, in his eighty-third year, will be read with

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 273

interest. His name is inseparably associated with
that of his distinguished fellow-townsman. It is
from a paper in the New York " Home Journal,"
entitled " Literati at Concord," November, 1874 • —

" Not far from Mr. Emerson's hemlock grove —
writes a pilgrim of the Inter-Ocean — is the pic-
turesque home of the Alcotts, It is the queerest
little cottage in the world. It stands at the foot of
the hill which the British soldiers crossed the
morning, nearly a hundred years ago, when they
marched up from Lexington. The house is a dull
brown colour, with peaked roof and many a gable
end, in one of which, hooded by the jutting roof
and festooned by some airy sprays of woodbine, is
the window whence 'Aunt Joe' looks out on the
sunny meadows. On each side of the front walk
there is a huge elm with rustic seat built around its
roots, and among the branches tame squirrels hold
high revelry. Yonder a hammock swings under
some apple trees, and around the whole runs a
rustic fence, built by Mr. Alcott himself It is
made entirely of pine boughs, knotted, gnarled,
and twisted into every conceivable shape. No two
pieces are alike ; the gates are wonderful, and they
alone would make credible the story that he spent
years collecting the branches.

" Mr. Alcott, the ' Orphic Alcott,' as Curtis calls
s

274 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

him, is one of the Concord philosophers, and has
his ' ism,' of course. Vegetables and con\'ersation
are his forte, and he reared his family on a diet of
both, apparently with great success, judging from
appearances. He ate weeds and talked and built
summer-houses, whose chief use was to be targets
for George William Curtis' wit. Once he kept a
young ladies' school in Boston, where books were
discarded and teaching done entirely by con-
versation.* He was also a member of those ex-
traordinary assemblages, practicable in Boston
alone, over which Margaret Fuller presided, and it
must have been a rare sight to see how these two
inexhaustible talkers managed to tolerate each
other. For it is said that Mr. Alcott's conversa-
tions are very much like the Irishman's treaty — the
reciprocity is all on one side ; or, as a Western host
•described him once in his invitations to some friends,
* Come up this evening. I have a philosopher on
tap.'

" It is all well enough to joke about Mr. Alcott
till you see him. Then to come face to face with
this white-haired, benign, gracious old man, makes
levity seem irreverent. He is over six feet tall, but
a good deal stooped. His long, grey hair falls
scantily around a face beautified by the placidity

* The school was a mixed one, for young scholars. — A. I.

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 275

and dignity of old age ; he is a perfect counterpart
of the pictures of venerable cures one sees in French
storybooks. His manners are very simple and un-
affected, and it is his great delight to gather some
of his daughters' young friends in his cosy, crimson-
lined study and chat with them. Mr. Emerson
esteems him highly, but his books seem to be less
appreciated by his own people than they are
abroad, a fate common to prophets if not philo-
sophers. His most valuable work is a journal
faithfully kept for fifty years, carefully bound, in-
dexed, and with letters and other valuable papers
ranged on his library shelves. This taste for
minute detail, his orderly arrangement, his dis-
tinguished associates, and the number of years
covered by the record will make these volumes
priceless to historians or biographers. If in Emer-
son's study perpetual twilight reigns, in Alcott's it
is always noon. The sun shines in it all day long,
the great fireplace roars, and the warm crimson
hangings temper the sunlight and reflect the fire-
light. Quaint mottoes and pictures hang on the
walls. The most noticeable picture is a photograph
of Carlyle. It is what is called a ' Cameron photo-
graph.' An English woman of rank takes these
photographs of distinguished men just for her own
amusement. The camera is set out of focus, the

276 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

heads nearly life-size, and the general effect is
singular — interesting, if nothing else. All you
can see against a black background is the indis-
tinct outlines of a shaggy white head and beard
and sharp features. With all deference to Mr.
Carlyle, we must say that he looks like an old
beggar.

"Miss May Alcott, a fine-looking, stylish woman,
is an artist whom the critic of critics, Ruskin, has
declared to be the only successful copyist of
Turner. She surely has one attribute not usually
allied to her profession — the most generous interest
in other artists — not only by word of mouth, but
with substantial endeavour. She brought home
with her several English water colours, for whose
artists she is trying to find American patrons.
She herself paints in oil and water colours, and
sketches in crayons, charcoal, sepia, ink, and pencil,
and is one of the most popular Boston teachers.
Her studio at home, a most cobwebby, disorderly,
fascinating little den, is frescoed with profiles of
her acquaintances — that is the toll cheerfully paid
by her visitors — they must be drawn on the wall.
She is known to the general reading public through
her illustrations of ' Little Women,' in which she
fell far short of her usual ability. She and Louisa
planned subsequently a charming little book called

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 277

' Concord Sketches,' which it is a great pity was
never made pubHc. Beside painting, Miss May
models in clay sometimes. A head of Mercury
and all sorts of pretty little sketches from her
hands adorn her home, which is made a still
sunnier remembrance to all visitors by her bright-
ness and cordiality.*

" Louisa Alcott, the elder of the two, the
darling of all American nurseries, is something
of an invalid. She is amiable and interesting,
and, like her sister, sociable, unless you unluckily
approach her in her character of author, and then
the porcupine bristles. There is no favour to be
curried with her or Gail Hamilton by talking 'shop.'
* Little Women ' is drawn chiefly from Miss
Alcott's own home life. Amy the golden-haired,
is May, Hemmie and Demmie are her two little
nephews, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh her father and
mother ; she herself is Jo, of course. When the
book was first published, children used to come
by the dozen from all parts of the country to see
' Jo.' To the calls of these little pilgrims she
always presented herself cheerfully, though she
used to be infinitely amused at the unmistakable
disappointment of her young admirers when they

* This lady married a French nobleman, named Nierecker. She
died in January, 18S0. — A. I.

2/8 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

saw this delicate, practical-looking lady, slightly
stooped, for their rollicking, romping, nimble Jo.
Miss Alcott struck a rich vein of popularity and
more substantial reward in her juvenile books,
though she herself considers ' Hospital Sketches '
the best of her writings.

" Some four or five years ago she went into a
Boston book-store to leave an order, which the clerk-
told her could not be attended to, ' because,' said
he, not knowing to whom he spoke, ' we shall be
busy all day packing books for a Western firm.
Two weeks ago we sent ten thousand copies of
" Little Women " out there, and to-day comes an
order for twenty thousand more.' As soon as they
got out of the store her companion turned to her
with some congratulatory expression.

"'Ah !' said Miss Alcott, drawing a long breath,
' I have waited fifteen years for this day.'

" Mrs. Alcott is a beautiful old lady, herself
something of a writer, or, as one of her daughters
lovingly says, ' the brightest one of the family.' "

Emerson and his Daughter.

A correspondent of the " Cincinnati Commercial,"
giving an account of a lecture delivered at Washing-
ton, in July, 1876, thus speaks of the beautiful

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 279

relation between Mr. Emerson and his daughter: —

o

" Into the Congressional library walked Emerson,
one of the immortals, and smiled his celestial smile,
as if two such things as mercury and the thermo-
meter were not. His daughter Ellen by his side,
and as she is the incarnation of common sense, she
also was sublimely indifferent to the weather. When
this rare spirit (far be the day) passes forever from
mortal sight we shall hear more from this daughter
Ellen. For she, in all likelihood, will be the
executor of his papers and the delineator of that
deep, still, inward life. It is memorable that the
men who have achieved the most in letters and in
science have always had a woman standing close
beside them within the veil, as Carl Schurz says
in homely phrase : 'Handing them the bricks while
they build,' and holding up their hands when they
were weary. It has just come to light how much
Sir William Herschel owed to the tender and tire-
less sister who, through a lifetime of nights, stood
by his side while others slept ; who polished till
her hands grew numb the mirrors which were to
reflect back for him immensity ; who had no ambi-
tion in life but to be his servant ; who underrated
her own achievements that she might exalt his,
and, as her clear vision swept the paths of the
spheres, shrank from her own discoveries of worlds,

28o RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

lest it might prove a shadow on his fame. So the
great American seer has a woman walking close
by his side, taking the very thoughts from his mind
and translating them for the world, and this
woman is his daughter."

"Monday Conversations" at Concord.

A writer in the " Boston Journal " (April 27,
1872,) gives an account of Emerson's "Monday
Conversations " and " Literary Meetings " at the
Mechanics' Hall, Concord : — " A venerable gentle-
man, well preserved, serene and elegant in manner,
takes his seat upon the platform of a cosy and
comfortable hall, at three o'clock on a Monday
afternoon, when the rush and roar of business in prac-
tical Boston is at its height, and, gently arranging
his papers before him, looks calmly around him
upon the large audience gathered to hear him. It is
the caiisei'ie which he has undertaken — the familiar
and delicate enunciation of his ideas in the form
invented by our sprightly yet thoughtful French
friends — and the ladies throng to hear him in
greater numbers even than when he appears in
the attitude of the lecturer. A red curtain hangs
behind him, setting off in sharp relief the keen
and noble outline of his features — the head thrown

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 281

forward with the poise of daring assertion — and
the face now animated with all the warmth and
enthusiasm of a genuine poetic admiration, now
saddened and reserved with the diffidence of the
habitual student and the man of reverie. Side-
lights from each wing of the stage throw a sharp
light upon the ample manuscript on the reading-
desk, for the philosopher and poet is now rapidly
nearing seventy years of age, and the fatigues of
the lecture-room are easier felt than thirty years
ago. Yet the same consummate magnetism lingers
around and upon every word and phrase ; there is
the same thrilling earnestness of antithesis, the same
delight and gloating over poetry and excellence of
expression, as of old. There is no other man in
America who can, by the mere force of what he
says, enthrall and dominate an audience. Breathless
attention is given, although now and then his voice
falls away so that those seated farthest off have to
strain every nerve to catch the words. The grand
condensation, the unfaltering and almost cynical
brevity of expression are at first startling and
vexatious; but presently one yields to the charm,
and finds his mind in the proper assenting mood.
The conversations attract more women than men,
but they are of the more intellectual and reflective
class of our New England women, who find in

282 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

the intensity and wonderful precision of Mr. Emer-
son's mind something inexpressibly pleasing. Nor
arc they blind worshippers merely at a shrine
before which they kneel in wonder ; but the large
majority appreciate and enjoy to the uttermost
the continual, unresting surging of thought thrust
upon them. . . . Mr. Emerson is greeted
by a class of people who are rarely seen together
on any other public occasion in Boston. Aside
from the large number of professed admirers and
disciples, and the literati, who are present each time
that he speaks or reads in Boston or vicinity, the
men who go to hear him are mainly of the
desire-to-be-dazzled-and-shocked order, who seem
disagreeably surprised when they do comprehend
what he says. Mr. Emerson's terse and vivid sen-
tences cling in the memory, and will not be effaced.
The causerie of yesterday afternoon gave an hun-
dred ideas upon poetry, and the relations of nature
to man, which will be henceforth grafted insepar-
ably upon the common mind. The emphatic New
Englander listens, incredulously at first, but finishes
by saying, ' That's so ! ' Ideals and heretofore far-
remote abstractions are brought down to the sphere
of daily life — admirably illustrated — made plain,
and tethered where even the humblest can appre-
ciate them as realities. And in all cases it seems

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 283

to the listener as if the phrases uttered were sculp-
tured in the thought of the speaker — as if they had
been so from the beginning, and could never be
otherwise."

Concord and Its Scenery.

The following letter, dated December, 1875,
from an American lady to a relative in England,
gives an account of a visit to Concord in the
Autumn of 1875 — that season of the year when the
foliage assumes its most brilliant colouring and tints.
In this letter we have a pleasant glimpse of Emer-
son and his home, and the local surroundings : —

. . . I have been in Concord, that quaint
and lovely New England village, near Boston,
where Emerson lives, and where Hawthorne and
Thoreau did live, and many other minor literary
celebrities drawn there perhaps by the great names
of Emerson and Hawthorne, making a society of
their own. . . . After a short ride in the twi-
light of a soft October evening, we reached our
destination. It was just light enough to see how
goldenly the drooping branches of the elms hung
above us, and how brilliant were the scarlet hues of
the maples. All day we had had a feast of colour,
for our train had come from Albany through the

284 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Berkshirc-hill country, and every hillside and valley
on that lovely sunny day, was like a blaze of glory,
and now we were to live in it for awhile in this j
lovely village. i

And then next day was such a day — indescri-
bable— such as only October can produce — and we
have them only once a year ! soft warmth, and
dreamy sunshine, and a large party wandering i
about under these beautiful trees, gathering the |
bright-hued branches exclaiming in ecstasy over
the colours, and the children shouting with glee, ;
Every step seemed to bring us to new and brighter ;
colours. . . . And then when tired with one i
long ramble, we returned with our bright boughs ,
through the village streets — the early sunset had |
begun, and was lighting up the grand old elms i
and brilliant maples, with such radiant hues, that
we seemed to be colour-bearers walking under
triumphal arches — brightened with the glory of
another world than ours. Thoreau somewhere
says — " October is the sunset of the year — Novem-
ber its later twilight." For three weeks I stayed
in this lovely village, the oldest about Boston,
and interesting in so many ways — rich for this \
country — with historical recollections, and full of

revolutionary mementoes. .•

1
It was there they had the Centennial Celebration, ,

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 2S5

last spring, of the first battle of the Revolution.
A pleasant walk under an arch of elm trees all
the way leads you to the battlefield — so long long
since covered with softest turf — and we crossed
the pretty bridge over the quiet Concord, and
stood by the statue of the Minute Man — with one
verse of Emerson's famous ode engraved upon the
pedestal : —

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,

Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

It was a lovely place to see the sunsets — the bright
clouds reflected in the placid water, and the bright
o'erhanging trees also, colouring its dark depths.
In this walk we always passed by the "Old Manse,"
which stood just as it does now in those days, owned
by the same family — the " Ripleys." The grand-
mother held the baby in her arms and looked out
upon the battle where her husband was fighting.
They showed us the window one day, when a friend
who knew the family took us to see the house.
They keep it as nearly as possible as it was then,
and it is as quaint and interesting as it can be.
Hawthorne lived there a little while when he was
first married, and wrote the "Mosses from an Old
Manse" there, and he gives a description of the old

2S6 RALPH WALDO EMERSON,

house in the preface to that book. There is some-
thing in one of the little panes of glass of the
windows written by him with his wife's diamond,
and their two names. And one Sunday afternoon
we wandered all over Sleepy Hollow, the village
cemetery — such a lovely place for sleep — and found
Hawthorne's grave. He lies alone, as he loved to
be in life — alone on a hill top, with the solemn pines
above him, and the simplest headstone to mark his
grave. His wife, you know, died, and was buried
near London. We covered the grave with our
beautiful October leaf blossoms. And then not far
off we found a tablet with " Henry Thoreau " upon
it, and we could not but drop our garlands of
leaves there ; for how he loved and wrote of their
" autumnal tints," that make the world so beautiful !
You know he lived in the woods for two years,
and wrote from his heart about them. A strange,
eccentric being he must have been. Emerson wrote
the most beautiful " Biographical Sketch " of him.

I mustn't forget to tell you too that often in our
rambles we met the great man of the village — and
that he always stopped and smiled, and talked as
simply and kindly as if he was not high as the stars
above us common folk. He came to see us too,
and asked us to take tea at his house (his wife is an
invalid and never makes calls) ; of course we went

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 287

and were delighted ; it was like going into the
holy of holies. The atmospJiere of the house was so
pure and unworldly somehow ; everthing so simple
and yet so refined. Miss Ellen Emerson, the un-
married daughter, has a beautiful head ; the brow
and eyes of a saint, and the rarest smile. She is
her father's rigJit Jiand now ; they seem to work
and think together. They were getting ready a
new book of his for the press. He said he could
do nothing without Ellen.

Well, I stayed in that dear little Neiv England
village three weeks. We saw the elms and maples
scatter their bright treasures to the winds ; saw
the lovely colours glow and gleam for a little while
upon the ground, and then fade into brown dry
leaves that rustled and cracked under our feet as we
walked. But that wasn't the last of the colour; "the
later twilight," you remember — for now came flam-
ing into rich, darker brilliancy, the scarlet and crim-
son oaks that till now had been dark green, and they
were relieved and set off by the deep yellow-like
pure gold of the white-stemmed birch trees. If
you could only have seen Walden Pond on one of
those late warm days, when the sun was very
brilliant, bringing out the colours wonderfully.
The oaks were like flames, even in shady places,
giving out such colour that the light seemed to

288 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

come from them, and then lower down on the
beautiful shores of the tiny lake came the delicate
little yellow birch leaves, always quivering upon
their silver-white stems, and reflected again — white
stems and golden and crimson leaves — in that
crystal clean w-atcr ! It was unreal and fairy-like ;
a picture of beauty that has haunted me ever since,
but I can't describe it to bring it before you as it
was to us that day. Perhaps Thoreau could have
done so, but no one else.

The " School of Philosophy " at Concord,

1880.

The Concord Correspondent of the "Chicago
Tribune" (September, 1880) gives the following
sketch of Emerson at the age of seventy-seven: —
"An old man with large eyes, prominent nose, and
awkward carriage, may often be seen shyly stealing
into the 'School of Philosophy,' just after the begin-
ning of the lecture. Passing through the aisle on
tiptoe, he seats himself in a huge ear-lap chair at
the left of the platform. The lips of the Sphinx arc
sealed, and their peaceful expression and the far-
away look in the eyes would seem to indicate that
the discussion going on has not sufficient interest
to draw him from the calm joy of reverie. But
the way in which he leans forward now and then

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 289

to catch the tones of an indistinct speaker, and
the promptitude with which certain little red spots
appear on his cheeks whenever a personal allusion
or quotation is made, show that, after all, he is
listening- with respectful attention. Emerson has a
noble propensity to overrate the works of his con-
temporaries. He has such a sublime faith that the
coming man will eventually arrive that he is always
on the look out for him, and finds his John the
Baptists in eccentric Thoreau and uncouth Whit-
man, in whom so many see only insanity. And
especially does his unaffected humility place an
exaggerated estimate upon the works and words
of his personal friends. Thoreau was an original
genius, and his mother used to say : ' Why,
how much Mr. Emerson talks like Henry ! ' Some
people are unkind enough to say that the boot was
squarely on the other foot, and that Thoreau was
only a parody of his great friend. While such state-
ments are grossly unjust, it remains true that the
fame of the poet naturalist owes much to the
friendship of Emerson. His house was thrown open
last Sunday evening, and parlour and study and
hall were filled with friends from the town and the
School of Philosophy. Mr, and Mrs, Emerson
(whose quaint, sweet face and simple, old-fashioned
attire suggested to one lady that ' She might have
T

290 RALPH IVALDO EMERSON.

just stepped off the Jlayflozuer'') bustled around,
shaking hands and arranging chairs for the guests.
Then Mr. Emerson rapped upon a door-jamb and
said : ' Some of our friends have something to say
to us, and we shall be glad to have them begin.'
Mr. Channing, Mr. Alcott, Miss Peabody and Pro-
fessor Harris did most of the talking. Mrs. Emerson
made a single remark, but the host took no part
whatever. The seventy-seventh birthday of Mr.
Emerson occurred recently. He feels the weight
of years, and though he walks about briskly, his
memory is failing, and he is often thrown into
pathetic confusion by his treacherous faculty. It
seems very difficult for him to grasp a new name.
Joseph Cooke called upon him just after Moody
and Sankey had been in Boston, and he inquired
of his visitor if he had been attending the 'Mosely
and Sukey meetings !' He never appeared in public
without his faithful maiden daughter Ellen, who
has the face of a saint and the garb of a Quakeress.
She has charge of his manuscripts, and when asked,
a few days ago, what lecture her father proposed to
read before the school, replied that ' she had not
decided.' She intimated, furthermore, that she
might put a veto on his lecturing at all."

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 291

A Touching Conversation.

A visitor at Concord, in August, 188 1, records
the following touching conversation with Emerson.
"Just on the outskirts of the village, a little way-
back from the street, stands the old-fashioned
country-seat which is sacred as being the home of
the Jove of the Concord Immortals, Emerson.
Mr. Emerson himself came to the door to greet me
with a still active step, and with his placid, in-
scrutable countenance unchanged in the eight years
since I had seen him last. A vein of sadness ran
through his striking words as we conversed, which
now and then deepened into indescribable pathos
as he spoke of himself: —

" ' I am visiting the Summer School, and called
to pay my respects to you,' I said,

" ' I thank you,' he replied, and a slight difficulty
in articulation was noticeable as he spoke. ' I am
glad to see you ; yet I fear I can do little. I can
only disappoint those who come to see me. I find
that I am losing myself, and I wander away from
the matter that I have in mind.' There was little
to be said, but I made some remark, and he con-
tinued :

" ' I cannot say much. When I begin I lose
myself And so when my friends come to see me

292 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

I run away, instead of going to meet them, that I
may not make them suffer.'

" I spoke of an examining committee on which
he had served at Cambridge, and his face Hghtened
for an instant. ' Yes, yes,' he said, and made some
personal enquiry of me. ' But I see no one now,'
he added.

" ' Your general health is good, I trust ? ' I asked.

'"Yes, my health is good enough,' he replied
indifferently. Then he said slowly, with a won-
derful pathos in his voice : ' But when one's wits
begin to fail, it is time for the heavens to open and
take him away.'

" He turned sadly aside, and I left him. More
keenly than anyone else can do, the philosopher
realises that age is casting a shadow upon his
memory and slowly chilling his faculties."

G. J. HoLYOAKE's Visit.

Mr. George Jacob Holyoakc, in the latest
chapter of his recent American tour in the " Co-
operative News," describes a visit he paid to
Emerson : — " Though tall, he is still erect, and has
the bright eye and calm grace of manner wc knew
when he was in England long years ago. In
European eyes, his position among men of letters
in America is as that of Carlyle among English

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 293

writers ; with the added quality, as I think, of
greater braveness of thought and clearness of sym-
pathy. . . . Friends had told me that age
seemed now a little to impair Mr. Emerson's
memory, but I found his recollection of England
accurate and full of detail. Englishmen told me
with pride that in the dark days of the war, when
American audiences were indignant at England,
Emerson would put in his lectures some generous
passage concerning this country, and raising him-
self erect, pronounce it in a defiant tone, as though
he threw the words at his audience. More than
any other writer Emerson gives me the impression
of one who sees facts alive and knows their ways,
and who writes nothing that is mean or poor."

Literary Opinions.
A few years ago, an English literary gentleman
visited Emerson at his home in Concord, and
brought away many of his opinions on literary and
other subjects. A few of these are here recorded : —
" Wordsworth's ode on Immortality touches the
high water mark of modern literature. . . .
Walter Savage Landor will always be read by
the select few. Matthew Arnold is growing too
diffusive. His ' sweetness and light ' have become
as heavy as lead with too much repetition. He

294 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

liked Arnold's critical essays very much, but was
not partial to his poetry. Sainte-Beuve he con-
sidered the great French writer. He said ' I don't
meddle with Auguste Comte,' in reply to the
question whether he was interested in the positive
philosophy. . . . 'Thoreau was a true genius,
and so great was his mastery of the phenomena
of nature that it would need another Linnaeus, as
well as a poet, properly to edit his writings.' . . .
Of Buckle he spoke with admiration, comparing
his erudition with Gibbon's fulness of learning,
and cited his chapters on France in particular as
a splendid contribution to history. . . . Carlyle
being mentioned, Emerson defended him from
Margaret Fuller's criticism in her letters, and said
that 'Carlyle purposely made exaggerated state-
ments, merely to astonish his listeners. His attitude
toward America during our war was unfortunate,
but no more than could be expected.' " Mr. Emer-
son's visitor records what Carlyle is reported to have
said regarding a distinguished English poet of the
" fleshly school," but his prommciamento is too
scathing and hideous to be given in print.

Harmony between his Life and Teachings.

" Emerson's is one of those radiant lives scattered
at wide intervals through history, which become the

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 295

fixed stars of humanity. A youth of purest, fiery
aspiration, a manhood devoted to the eloquent ex-
position in word and act of moral truths, an old age of
serene benevolence— in his case the traditional four-
score years allotted to our kind were literally passed
upon the heights, in daily familiarity with ideas
and emotions which are generally associated only
with moments of exaltation. His uncompromising
devotion to Truth never hardened into dogmatism,
his audacious rejection of all formalism never
soured into intolerance, his hatred of sham never
degenerated into a lip-protest and a literary trick,
his inflexible moral purpose went hand in hand
with unbounded charity. In him the intellectual
keenness and profundity of a philosopher, and the
imagination of a poet, were combined with that
child-like simplicity and almost divine humility
which made him the idol of his fellow-townsmen
and the easily accessible friend of the ignorant and
the poor. No discrepancy exists between his writ-
ten words and the record of his life. He fought
his battle against error and vice, not with the usual
weapons of denunciation and invective, but by pro-
claiming in speech and deed the beauty of truth and
virtue. He has founded no school, he has formu-
lated no theory, he has abstained from uttering a
single dogma, and yet his moral and intellectual in-

296 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

fluence has made itself felt as an active and growing
power for highest good over the whole breadth
of the continent." — "Emerson's Personality," by-
Emma Lazarus, "The Century," July, 1882.

Latest Glimpses of Emerson.

One of the latest glimpses we have of Emerson,
in his home surroundings, is from the journal of
Walt Whitman, the American poet, who paid a
visit to Concord in the Autumn of last year (1881).
He dined with Emerson and his family, and on
two successive days spent several hours in their
company. The following sentences I cull from
Whitman's journal, now before me : —

" Camden, N. /., Dec. /, 1881. — During my last
three or four months' jaunt to Boston and through
New England, I spent such good days at Concord,
and with Emerson, seeing him under such pro-
pitious circumstances, in the calm, peaceful, but
most radiant, twilight of his old age (nothing in
I the height of his literary action and expression so

becoming and impressive), that I must give a few
impromptu notes of it all. So I devote this cluster
entirely to the man, to the place, the past, and all
leading up to, and forming, that memorable and
peculiar Personality, now near his Both year — as I

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 297

have just seen him there, in his home, — silent,
sunny, surrounded by a beautiful family."

" Concord, Mass., Sept. ij. — Never had I a better
piece of better luck befall me : a long and blessed
evening with Emerson, in a way I couldn't have
wished better or different. For nearly two hours he
has been placidly sitting where I could see his face
in the best light near me. Mrs. S.'s back parlour
well fill'd with people, neighbours, many fresh and
charming faces, women, mostly young, but some
old. My friend A. B. Alcott and his daughter
Louisa were there early. A good deal of talk,
the subject Henry Thoreau — some new glints of
his life and fortunes, with letters to and from him —
one of the best by Margaret Fuller, others by
Horace Greeley, W. H. Channing, etc. — one from
Thoreau himself, most quaint and interesting. My
seat and the relative arrangement were such that,
without being rude or anything of the kind, I could
just look squarely at E., which I did a good part of
the two hours. On entering he had spoken very
briefly, easily and politely to several of the com-
pany, then settled himself in his chair, a trifle
pushed back, and, though a listener and apparently
an alert one, remained silent through the whole
talk and discussion. And so, there Emerson sat,
and I looking at him. A good colour in his face,

298 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

eyes clear, with the well-known expression of sweet-
ness, and the old clear-peering aspect quite the
same."

" Next Day. — Several hours at E.'s house, and
dinner there. An old familiar house (he has been
in it thirty-five years), with the surrounding fur-
nishmcnt, roominess, and plain elegance and fulness,
signifying democratic ease, sufficient opulence, and
an admirable old-fashioned simplicity — ■ modern
luxury, with its mere sumptuousness and affecta-
tion, cither touched lightly upon, or ignored alto-
gether. Of course the best of the present occasion
(Sunday, September i8th, 1881) was the sight of E.
himself. As just said, a healthy colour in the cheeks,
and good light in the eyes, cheery expression, and
just the amount of talking that best suited, namely,
a word or short phrase only where needed, and
almost always with a smile. Besides Emerson
himself, Mrs. E., with their daughter Ellen, the son
Edward and his wife, with my friend F. S. and Mrs.
S., and others, relatives and intimates. Mrs. Emer-
son, resuming the subject of the evening before (I
sat next to her), gave me further and fuller infor-
mation about Thoreau, who years ago, during Mr.
E.'s absence in Europe in 1848, had lived for some
time in the family, by invitation.

" Let me conclude by the thought, after all the

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 299

rest is said, that most impresses me about Emerson.
Amid the utter dehrium-disease called book-making,
its feverish cohorts filling our world with every form
of dislocation, morbidity, and special type of anemia
or exceptionalism (with the propelling idea of get-
ting the most possible money, first of all), how
comforting to know of an author who has, through
a long life, and in spirit, written as honestly, spon-
taneously, and innocently, as the sun shines or the
wheat grows — the truest, sanest, most moral,
sweetest literary man on record — unsoiled by
pecuniary or any other warp — ever teaching the
law within — ever loyally outcropping his own self
only — his own poetic and devout soul ! If there be
a Spirit above that looks down and scans authors,
here is one at least in whom it might be well
pleased."

Characteristic Anecdotes.

Some twenty years ago Emerson addressed a
literary society, during Commencement, at Middle-
bury, Vermont, and when he ended, the President
called upon a clergyman to conclude the service
with prayer. Then arose a Massachusetts minister,
who stepped into the pulpit Mr. Emerson had just
left, and uttered a remarkable prayer, of which this
was one sentence : " We beseech Thee, O Lord, to

300 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

deliver us from ever hearing any more such tran-
scendental nonsense as we have just listened to
from this sacred desk." After the benediction, Mr.
Emerson asked his next neighbour the name of
the officiating clergyman, and when falteringly
answered, with gentle simplicity remarked : " He
seemed a very conscientious, plain-spoken man,"
and went on his peaceful way.*

Mr. Giles, the Irish essayist, tells a story of
Emerson. " We had a rich old merchant, who was
a tireless talker, with whom our lecturers some-
times lodged. The good-hearted gentleman caught
me one evening and kept me a complaisant but
dreadfully weary listener, morally button-holed, so
to speak, until nearly sunrise. Then, as we parted
for the night, or rather for the morning, the garru-
lous and gratified monologist said : ' I like you,
Mr. Giles ; you are willing to hear what I have
to say ; Mr. Emerson was here the other night,

* In a review of the first edition of this Memoir in the "Nation,"
a New York paper, the above anecdote was quoted. In a succeeding
number, the Editor received from a correspondent, J. D. B. , the follow-
ing communication:— "The prayer at the close of the Middlebury
address, spoken of as by 'a Massachusetts minister,' was in fact
offered by the Reverend Stephen Martindale, the Congregationalist
minister of Wallingford, Vermont. By two or three witnesses let
every word be established. My wife and I were both there, heard
the prayer, knew the maker of it, and agree in our testimony."

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 301

after he had lectured, and he said he did not wish
to hear me talk — that he had rather go to bed.'
Not that the kindest of men meant to be uncivil —
he merely spoke with the simplicity and directness
of a Greek philosopher."

The congregation of a church in East Lexington
were anxious to have Emerson as their pastor, but
he did not wish to enter again upon the duties of
a clergyman, considering that the Lyceum platform
had now become his platform. He therefore
urged the congregation to call to their pulpit one
of his friends. When a lady of the society was
asked why they did not settle this friend her naive
reply was :— " We are a very simple people, and
can understand no one but Mr. Emerson."

Emerson's good sense was so strong that it
always seemed to be specially awakened in the
company of those who were most in sympathy with
his loftiest thinking. Thus, when " the radical
philosophers" were gathered one evening at his
house, the conversation naturally turned on the
various schemes of benevolent people to reform the
world. Each person present had a panacea to cure
all the distempers of society. For hours the talk-
ran on, and before bed-time came, all the sin and
misery of the world had been apparently expelled

302 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. \

from it, and our planet was reformed and trans- '
formed into an abode of human angels, and virtue '
and happiness were the lot of each human being. \
Emerson listened, but was sparing of speech. '
Probably he felt, with Lamennais, that if facts did
not resist thoughts, the earth would in a short time ,
become uninhabitable. At any rate, he closed the
seance with the remark : " A few of us old codgers :
meet at the fireside on a pleasant evening, and in '
thought and hope career, balloon-like, over the
whole universe of matter and mind, finding no ;
resistance to our theories, because we have, in the :
sweet delirium of our thinking, none of those '
obstructive facts which face the practical reformer
the moment he takes a single forward step ; then '
we go to bed ; and the pity of it is we wake up in
the morning feeling that we are the same poor old
imbeciles we were before!" — Some Recollections of
Emerson, by Edwin P. Whipple, in "Harper's |
Monthly Magazine," September, 1882. j

Walt Whitman, in the New York " Critic,"
December 3rd, 1 881, gives the following recollection
of a long argument with Emerson on Boston Com-
mon in i860 : — " Oct. 10-13, '81. — I spend a good
deal of time on the Common, these delicious days
and nights — ever}' mid-day from 1 1-30 to about i —

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 303

and almost every sunset another hour. I know all
the big trees, especially the old elms along Tremont
and Beacon Streets, and have come to a sociable-
silent understanding with most of them, in the
sunlit air (yet crispy-cool enough), as I saunter
along the wide unpaved walks. Up and down this
breadth by Beacon Street, between these same old
elms, I walked for two hours, of a bright sharp
February mid-day twenty-one years ago, with
Emerson, then in his prime, keen, physically and
morally magnetic, armed at every point, and when
he chose, wielding the emotional just as well as the
intellectual. During those two hours, he was the
talker and I the listener. It was an argument-
statement, reconnoitering, review, attack, and press-
ing home (like an army corps, in order, artillery,
cavalry, infantry), of all that could be said against
that part (and a main part) in the construction of
my poems, ' Children of Adam.' More precious
than gold to me that dissertation — (I only wish I
had it now, verbatim). It afforded me, ever after,
this strange and paradoxical lesson ; each point of
E.'s statement was unanswerable, no judge's charge
ever more complete or convincing, I could never
hear the points better put — and then I felt down in
my soul the clear and unmistakable conviction to
disobey all, and pursue m}^ own way. ' What have

304 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

you to say then to such things ? ' said E., pausing
in conclusion. ' Only that while I can't answer
them at all, I feel more settled than ever to adhere
to my own theory, and exemplify it,' was my
candid response. Whereupon we went and had
a good dinner at the American House. And
thenceforward I never wavered or was touched
with qualms (as I confess I had been two or three
times before).

Dr. Ellis, of Boston, reports that in a visit to
the poet Whittier, Emerson's last words as he left
his friend's house in the morning were, " I cannot
conceive of a greater soul than Jesus Christ." Dr.
Bartol, an old friend of Emerson's, instituted a
comparison between the Concord philosopher and
Darwin, declaring that the one was the complement
of the other — Darwin the explorer of structure,
Emerson of the organising power. He also con-
trasted Emerson and Carlyle, much to the advan-
tage of the former, who felt no less strongly than
the Chelsea sage the defects of humanity, and who
longed more earnestly for the millennial days, but
who was yet " content with God's world, on good
terms with its inhabitants, in love with his home,
with peace in his heart, full of respect, and with
due deference to his inferiors, never pouring out

MISCELLANEOUS L^ECORDS. 305

Carlyle's torrent of volcanic flame, stones, and
mud." Emerson and Darwin, according to Dr.
Bartol, were very similar " in their candour, absence
of grudge, freedom from vindictiveness and from
disposition to reply or quarrel, manners of splendid
culture and simplicity." Dr. Bartol relates how,
on a visit to Emerson's house, the philosopher
requested him in the morning to conduct family
devotions. As they rose from their knees their
eyes met. " There was in his a singular and sur-
prising lustre which I nev^er forgot ; not a surface
glitter, but a soft unfathomable transparency, which
made his looks to me like an embodied supplica-
tion." Dr. Bartol once prevailed on Emerson to
meet at his house with Father Taylor, the eccentric
Methodist evangelist of Boston, who has been
sketched by Charles Dickens. Taylor was delighted
with the philosopher. " Should Emerson go to
hell," he declared, " it would change the climate,
and the emigration would be that way." The
evangelist added, " I have laid my ear close to his
heart and never detected any jar in the machinery.
He has more of the spirit of Jesus than anybody
else I have known."

With regard to the humour in some passages of
his lectures, Mr. M. D. Conway says, in an article
U

3o6 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

on Emerson in " The Fortnightly Review " (June,
1882):

Emerson's humour as read has lost some of the flavour it possessed
when spoken. Indeed, now and then I have noted the omission
from a printed essay of some sally which when it was spoken elicited
much mirth. He was inclined to suspect any passage which excited
much laughter. There was omitted from his lecture on "Super-
latives," when recently printed in "The Century," a remark about
oaths. The oath, he said, could only be used by a thinking man
in some great moral emergency : in such rare case it might be
the solemn verdict of the universe ; but — he presently added in a
low tone, as if thinking to himself as he turned his page — " but
sham damns disgust." I remember, too, how quietly a little drama
was mounted on his face when he described a pedant pedagogue
questioning a little maid about Fabius, — whether he was victorious
or defeated in a certain battle. Susan, in distress, says he was
defeated, and is reproved for her mistake before the school and the
visitors. " Fabius was victorious. But Fabius is of no importance :
Susan's feelings are of a great deal of importance. Fabius, if he had
a particle of the gentleman about him, would rather be defeated a
hundred times than that Susan's feelings should be hurt." These
humorous passages came from Emerson gently, little wayside sur-
prises, and without any air of an intention to cause laughter. On
one occasion he was lecturing on the French, — a lecture, by the way,
full of racy anecdotes derived from his sojourn in Paris, — and he
instituted a comparison of the theatrical habit of that people with
English love of reality. " A Frenchman and an Englishman fought
a duel in the dark ; they were to be let out of the room after two
pistol-reports had been heard. The Englishman, to avoid wounding
his antagonist, crept round to the fire-place ; he fired up the
chimney, and brought down the Frenchman." After the mirth that
followed this was over, and Emerson had passed on to grave dis-
course, some individual tardily caught the joke about the duel, and
his solitary explosion set the house in a roar that made the lecturer
pause.

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. 307

" His manner toward strangers, while extremely
simple, was marked by an exquisite suavity and
dignity which peremptorily, albeit tacitly, prohi-
bited undue familiarity or conventional compliment.
Sought after as he was, particularly during recent
years, by literary novices who saluted him as mas-
ter, and pestered, like all prominent persons, by
visits and letters from the ordinary notoriety-mon-
gers, he found no occasion to resort to inveterate
exclusiveness or repelling harshness. . . . On
one occasion, only a few years ago, a friend con-
sulted him for advice in regard to the poems of
a then unknown writer, who has since won high
recognition. The manuscript was read to him in
the presence of two or three persons of culture and
intelligence ; the poems were crude, rugged, and
strongly individual. So strange and uncouth did
they seem that, when the reader ceased, no one else
present had been able to form the vaguest opinion
as to their artistic value ; but Mr. Emerson himself,
without pause or hesitancy, gave utterance to a
criticism so incisive and comprehensive as to
supply in the briefest compass all the advice and
encouragement which the young poet needed at
the time. * No discouragement must damp his
ardour,' concluded Mr. Emerson, ' no rebuff be
sufficient to quell this impulse which urges him to

3o8 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

write. A single voice in his favour should be
enough to support him till he attain the niastery of
style and taste which shall complete and perfect
his gift. Indeed, a single voice is more than I had
myself as a beginner,' he added with his wise,
subtle smile. ' My friends used to laugh at my
poetry, and tell me I was no poet.' " — " Emerson's
Personality," by Emma Lazarus, " The Century,"
July, 1882.

The Brook Farm Community Experiment.

As has been already stated (Memoir, p. 42), the
Brook Farm Community was one of the products
of that quickening and fermentation of thought
respecting social, religious, and educational reform
which made its appearance, in New England
especially, in the years preceding 1840. Many
earnest men and women — some of them of the
highest culture — dissatisfied with the tyranny and
benumbing influence of usage and conventional-
ism, aspired to make life richer and truer to first
principles, " by lifting men to a higher platform,
restoring to them the religious sentiment, bringing
them worthy aims and pure pleasures, purging
the inward eye, making life less desultory, and.

THE BROOK FARM COMMUNITY. 309

through raishig man to the level of nature, taking
away its melancholy from the landscape, and recon-
ciling the practical with the speculative powers."
From this state of thought and feeling sprang
"The Dial," in 1840. The spirit of the time is
described by Emerson in the opening address
of that periodical, with a rare felicity of phrase.
" No one can converse much with different classes
of society in New England without remarking
the progress of a revolution. Those who share
in it have no external organization, no badge, no
creed, no name. They do not vote, or print, or
even meet together. They do not know each
other's faces or names. They are united only in a
common love of truth, and love of its work. They
are of all conditions and constitutions. Of these
acolytes, if some are happily born and well bred,
many are no doubt ill dressed, ill placed, ill made,
with as many scars of hereditary vice as other men.
Without pomp, without trumpet, in lonely and
obscure places, in solitude, in servitude, in com-
punctions and privations, trudging beside the team
in the dusty road, or drudging a hireling in other
men's cornfields, schoolmasters who teach a few
children rudiments for a pittance, ministers of small
parishes of the obscurer sects, lone women in
dependent condition, matrons and young maidens,

3IO RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

rich and poor, beautiful and hard-favoured, without
concert or proclamation of any kind, they have
silently given in their several adherence to a new
hope, and in all companies do signify a greater
trust in the nature and resources of man than the
laws or the popular opinions will well allow. This
spirit of the time is felt by every individual with
some difference, — to each one casting its light upon
the objects nearest to his temper and habits of
thought ; — to one, coming in the shape of special
reforms in the state ; to another, in modifications of
the various callings of men, and the customs of
business; to a third, opening a new scope for litera-
ture and art ; to a fourth, in philosophical insight ;
to a fifth, in the vast solitudes of prayer. It is in
every form a protest against usage, and a search for
principles. In all its movements it is peaceable,
and in the very lowest marked with a triumphant
success. Of course, it rouses the opposition of all
which it judges and condemns, but it is too confi-
dent in its tone to comprehend an objection, and
so builds no outworks for possible defence against
contingent enemies. It has the step of Fate, and
goes on existing like an oak or a river, because
it must."

In Mr. O. B. Frothingham's "Transcendentalism
in New England " will be found an interesting

THE BROOK FARM COMMUNITY. 311

account of that singular social experiment. The
Constitution of the Brook Farm Community given
by him explains the project, and expresses the spirit
in which it was undertaken. The jealous regard
for the rights of the individual is not the least
characteristic feature of this remarkable document.
Every provision was made to guard against the
infringement of individual independence. It was
open to all sects, and admitted and welcomed all
kinds and degrees of intellectual culture. Agricul-
ture was made the basis of the life, as bringing
man into direct and simple relations with nature,
and restoring labour to honest conditions.

Provisions were either raised on the farm or purchased at whole-
sale. Meals were eaten in "commons." It was the rule that all
should labour — choosing their occupations, and the number of hours,
and receiving wages according to the hours. No labour was hired
that could be supplied within the community ; and all labour was
rewarded alike, on the principle that physical labour is more irk-
some than mental, more absorbing and exacting, less improving and
delightful. Moreover, to recognize practically the nobility of labour
in and of itself, none were appointed to special kinds of work. All
took their turn at the several branches of employment. None were
drudges or menials. The intellectual gave a portion of their time to
tasks such as servants and handmaidens usually discharge. The
unintellectual were allowed a portion of their time for mental culti-
vation. The benefits of social intercourse were thrown open to all.
The aim was to secure as many hours as practicable from the neces-
sary toil of providing for the wants of the body, that there might be
more leisure to provide for the deeper wants of the soul. The
acquisition of wealth was no object. No more thought was given to

312 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

this than the exigencies of existence demanded. To live, expand,
enjoy as rational beings, was the never-forgotten aim.

The community trafficked by way of exchange and barter with
the outside world ; sold its surplus produce ; sold its culture to as
many as came or sent children to be taught. It was hoped that from
the accumulated results of all this labour, the appliances for intellectual
and spiritual health might be obtained ; that books might be bought,
works of art, scientific collections and apparatus, means of decora-
tion and refinement, all of which should be open on the same terms
to every member of the association. The principle of cooperation
was substituted for the principle of competition ; self development
for selfishness. The faith was avowed in every arrangement that the
soul of humanity was in each man and woman.

The reputation for genius, accomplishment and wit, which the
founders of the Brook Farm enterprise enjoyed in society, attracted
towards it the attention of the public, and awakened expectation of
something much more than ordinary in the way of literary advantages.
The settlement became a resort for cultivated men and women who
had experience as teachers and wished to employ their talent to the
best effect ; and for others who were tired of the conventionalities,
and sighed for honest relations with their fellow-beings. Some took
advantage of the easy hospitality of the association, and came there
to live mainly at its expense — their unskilled and incidental labour
being no compensation for their entertainment. The most successful
department was the school. Pupils came thither in considerable
numbers and from considerable distances. Distinguished visitors
gave charm and reputation to the place.

The members were never numerous ; the number varied con-
siderably from year to year. Seventy was a fair average ; of these,
fewer than half were young persons sent thither to be educated.
Several adults came for intellectual assistance. Of married people
there were, in 1844, but four pairs. A great deal was taught and
learned at Brook Farm. Classics, mathematics, general litera-
ture, esthetics, occupied the busy hours. The most productive
work was done in these ideal fields, and the best result of it
was a harvest in the ideal world, a new sense of life's elasticity

THE BROOK FARM COMMUNITY. 313-

and joy, the delight of freedom, the innocent satisfaction of spon-
taneous relations.

The details above given convey no adequate idea of the Brook
Farm fraternity. In one sense it was much less than they imply ;
in another sense it was much more. It was less, because its plan
was not materially successful ; the intention was defeated by circum-
stances ; the hope turned out to be a dream. Yet, from another
aspect, the experiment fully justified itself. Its moral tone was high ;
its moral influence sweet and sunny. Had Brook Farm been a com-
munity in the accepted sense, had it insisted on absolute community
of goods, the resignation of opinions, of personal aims interests or
sympathies ; had the principle of renunciation, sacrifice of the
individual to the common weal, been accepted and maintained, its
existence might have been continued and its pecuniary basis made
sure. But asceticism was no feature of the original scheme. On the
contrary, the projectors of it were believers in the capacities of the
soul, in the safety, wisdom and imperative necessity of developing
those capacities, and in the benign effect of liberty. Had the spirit
of rivalry and antagonism been called in, the sectarian or party spirit,
however generously interpreted, the result would probably have been
different. But the law of sympathy being accepted as the law of
life, exclusion was out of the question ; inquisition into beliefs was
inadmissible ; motives even could not be closely scanned ; so while
some were enthusiastic friends of the principle of association, and
some were ardent devotees to liberty, others thought chiefly of their
private education and development ; and others still were attracted
by a desire of improving their social condition, or attaining com-
fort on easy terms. The idea, however noble, true, and lovely,
was unable to grapple with elements so discordant. Yet the fact
that these discordant elements did not, even in the brief period of
the fraternity's existence, utterly rend and abolish the idea ; that to
the last, no principle was compromised, no rule broken, no aspira-
tion bedraggled, is a confession of the purity and vitality of the
creative thought. That a mere aggregation of persons, without
written compact, formal understanding, or unity of purpose, men,
women, and children, should have lived together, four or five years,

314 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

without scandal or reproach from dissension or evil whisper, should
have separated without rancour or bitterness, and should have
left none but the pleasantest savour behind them — is a tribute to the
Transcendental Faith.

The full history of that movement can be written only by one
who belonged to it, and shared its secret : and it would doubtless
have been written before this, had the materials for a history been
more solid. Aspirations have no history. It is pleasant to hear the
survivors of the pastoral experiment talk over their experiences,
merrily recall the passages in work or play, revive the impressions of
country rambles, conversations, discussions, social festivities, recount
the comical mishaps, summon the shadows of friends dead, but
unforgotten, and describe the hours spent in study or recreation,
unspoiled by carefulness. But it is in private alone that these confi-
dences are imparted. To the public very little has been, or will be,
or can be told.

Mr. Hawthorne was one of the first to take up the scheme. He
was there a little while at the beginning in 1841, and his note-books
contain passages that are of interest. But Hawthorne's temperament
was not congenial with such an atmosphere, nor was his faith clear
or steadfast enough to rest contented on its idea. His, however,
were observing eyes ; and his notes, being soliloquies, confessions
made to himself, convey his honest impressions.

"It already looks like a dream behind me. The real Me was
never an associate of the community ; there had been a spectral
Appearance there, sounding the horn at day break, and milking the
cows, and hoeing the potatoes, and raking hay, toiling in the sun,
and doing me the honour to assume my name. But this spectre was
not myself."

A friend of Emerson, George William Curtis, —
of whom Hawthorne speaks as the one who could
best write the real history of this very interesting
experiment, which the inimitable and weird pencil
of the latter has immortalized in that saddest of

THE BROOK FARM COMMUNITY. 315

romances, "The Blithedale Romance" thus speaks
of it: — "It was indescribably ludicrous to ob-
serve reverend doctors and other dons coming
out to gaze upon the extraordinary spectacle, and
going about as dainty ladies hold their skirts and
daintily step from stone to stone in a muddy street,
lest they be soiled. The dons seemed to doubt
whether the mere contact had not smirched them.
But, droll in itself, it was a thousandfold droller
when Theodore Parker came through the woods
and described it. With his head set low upon his
gladiatorial shoulders, and his nasal voice in subtle
and exquisite mimicry reproducing what was
truly laughable, yet all with infinite bonJioinie
and with a genuine superiority to small malice,
he was as humorous as he was learned, and as
excellent a man as he was noble and fervent and
humane a preacher. On Sundays a party always
went from the Farm to Mr. Parker's little country
church. He was there exactly what he was
afterwards when he preached to thousands of
eager people in the Boston Music Hall ; the same
plain, simple, rustic, racy man. His congregation
were his personal friends. They loved him and
admired him and were proud of him ; and his
geniality and tender sympathy, his ample know-
ledge of things as well as of books, his jovial

3i6 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

manliness and sturdy independence, drew to him
all ages and sexes and conditions.

" The society at Brook Farm was composed of
every kind of person. There were the ripest scholars,
men and women of the most aesthetic culture
and accomplishment, young farmers, seamstresses,
mechanics, preachers — the industrious, the lazy,
the conceited, the sentimental. But they were
associated in such a spirit and under such con-
ditions that, with some extravagance, the best
of everybody appeared, and there was a kind
of esprit de corps, at least in the earlier or golden
age of the colony. There was plenty of steady,
essential hard work ; for the founding of an
earthly Paradise upon a rough New England farm
is no pastime. But with the best intention, and
much practical knowledge and industry and devo-
tion, there was in the nature of the case an inevi-
table lack of method, and the economical failure
was almost a foregone conclusion. But there were
never such witty potato patches and such spark-
ling corn-fields before or since. The weeds were
scratched out of the ground to the music of
Tennyson or Browning, and the nooning was an
hour as gay and bright as any brilliant midnight
at Ambrose's. But in the midst of all was one
figure, the practical farmer, an honest neighbour

THE BROOK FARM COMMUNITY. 317

who was not drawn to the enterprise by any
spiritual attraction, but was hired at good wages to
superintend the work, and who ahvays seemed to
be regarding the whole affair with the most good-
natured wonder. as a prodigious masquerade. In-
deed, the description which Hawthorne gives of
him at a real masquerade of the farmers in the
woods depicts his attitude toward Brook Farm
itself: 'And apart, with a shrewd Yankee obser-
vation of the scene, stands our friend Orange,
a thick-set, sturdy figure, enjoying the fun well
enough, yet rather laughing with a perception of
its nonsensicalness than at all entering into the
spirit of the thing.' That, indeed, was very much
the attitude of Hawthorne himself toward Brook
Farm and many other aspects of human life.

" But beneath all the glancing colours, the lights
and shadows of its surface, it was a simple, honest,
practical effort for wiser forms of life than those in
which we find ourselves. The criticism of science,
the sneer of literature, the complaint of experience,
is that man is a miserably half-developed being, the
proof of which is the condition of human society,
in which the few enjoy and the many toil. But
the enjoyment cloys and disappoints, and the very
want of labour poisons the enjoyment. Man is
made body and soul. The health of each requires

3i8 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

reasonable exercise. If every man did his share of
the muscular work of the world, no other man
would be overwhelmed by it. The man who does
not work imposes harder toil upon him who docs.
Thereby the first steals from the last the oppor-
tunity of mental culture, and at last we reach a
world of pariahs and patricians, with all the incon-
ceivable sorrow and suffering that surround us.
Bound fast by the brazen age, we can see that the
way back to the age of gold lies through justice,
which will substitute co-operation for competition.
. . . The spirit that was concentrated at Brook
Farm is diffused, but it is not lost. As an organised
effort, after many downward changes, it failed ;
but those who remember the Hive, the Eyrie, the
Cottage — when Margaret Fuller came and talked,
radiant with bright humour ; when Emerson and
Parker and Hedge joined the circle for a night or
a day ; when those who may not be publicly named
brought beauty and wit and social sympathy to the
feast ; when the practical possibilities of life seemed
fairer, and life and character were touched inef-
faceably with good influence — cherish a pleasant
vision which no fate can harm, and remember
with ceaseless gratitude the blithe days at Brook
Farm."

resignation of his pastoral charge. 319

Emerson's Resignation of his Pastoral
Charge in 1832.

EXTRACTS FROM HIS FAREWELL SERMON AND LETTER.

As has been stated in this Memoir, p. 12, Emer-
son felt compelled to resign his pastorate in Boston,
on account of scruples in connection with the com-
memoration of the Lord's Supper in the sense
generally entertained. " He had come," says Mr.
Guernsey,* "to more than doubt the authority, and
even the usefulness, of this Christian rite. His ob-
jections to it did not rest at all upon the mysterious
doctrines of Transubstantiation and Consubstantia-
tion, for which so many men have been sent to the
stake, and have sent others to the state. . .
His own objections to the present practice of the
ordinance lay far deeper than any mere question
as to the form of administering it. In his view the
rite was never instituted by Jesus as a permanent
one for his followers through the ages ; and what-
ever of usefulness it may have had in the olden
time, it was an outworn garment to be thrown
aside. The sacerdotal blessing of the bread and
Avine was a ceremony in which he could no lono-er
take part.

* "Ralph Waldo Emerson : Philosopher and Poet," by Alfred
H. Guernsey.

320 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

From the remarkable sermon delivered to his
congregation, setting forth his reasons for his resig-
nation, described by Mr. Frothingham (Memoir,
p. 14), the following passages are given :

Passing other objections, I come to this, that the use of the
elements, however suitable to the people and the modes of thought
in the East, where it originated, is foreign and unsuited to affect
us. Whatever long usage and strong association may have done in
some individuals to deaden this repulsion, I apprehend that their
use is rather tolerated than loved by any of us. We are not
accustomed to express our thoughts or emotions by symbolical
actions. Most men find the bread and wine no aid to devotion, and
to some it is a painful impediment. To eat bread is one thing ;
to love the precepts of Christ and resolve to obey them is quite
another.

The statement of this objection leads me to say that I think this
difficulty, wherever it is felt, to be entitled to the greatest weight.
It is alone a sufficient objection to the ordinance. It is my own
objection. This mode of commemorating Christ is not suitable to
me. That is reason enough why I should abandon it. If I
believed that it was enjoined by Jesus on his disciples, and that he
even contemplated making permanent this mode of commemoration,
every way agreeable to an eastern mind, and yet, on trial, it was
disagreeable to my own feelings, I should not adopt it. I should
choose other ways which, as more effectual upon me, he would
approve more. For I choose that my remembrances of him should
be pleasing, affecting, religious. I will love him as a glorified
friend, after the free way of friendship, and not pay him a stiff" sign
of respect, as men do to those whom they fear. A passage read
from his discourses, a moving provocation to works like his, any act
or meeting which tends to awaken a pure thought, a flow of love,
an original design of virtue, I call a worthy, a true commemoration.
I am not so foolish as to declaim against forms. Forms are as
essential as bodies; but to exalt particular forms, to adhere to one

RESIGNATION OF HIS PASTORAL CHARGE. 321

form a moment after it is out-grown, is unreasonable, and it is alien to
the spirit of Christ. If I understand the distinction of Christianity,
the reason why it is to be preferred over all other systems and is
divine is this, that it is a moral system; that it presents men with
truths whicli are their own reason, and enjoins practices that are
their own justification; that if miracles may be said to have been its
evidence to the first Christians, they are not its evidence to us, but
the doctrines themselves; that every practice is Christian which
praises itself, and every practice unchristian which condemns itself.
I am not engaged to Christianity by decent forms, or saving
ordinances; it is not usage, it is not what I do not understand, that
binds me to it — let these be the sandy foundations of falsehoods.
What I revere and obey in it is its reality, its boundless charity, its
deep interior life, the rest it gives to my mind, the echo it returns to
my thoughts, the perfect accord it makes with my reason through
all its representation of God and His Providence; and the persuasion
and courage that come out thence to lead me upward and onward.
Freedom is the essence of this faith. It has for its object simply to
make men good and wise. Its institutions, then, should be as
flexible as the wants of men. That form out of which the life and
suitableness have departed, should be as worthless in its eyes as the
dead leaves that are falling around us.

And therefore, although for the satisfaction of others, I have
laboured to show by the history that this rite was not intended to be
perpetual ; although I have gone back to weigh the expressions of
Paul, I feel that here is the true point of view. In the midst of
considerations as to what Paul thought, and why he so thought, I
cannot help feeling that it is time misspent to argue to or from his
convictions, or those of Luke and John, respecting any form. I
seem to lose the substance in seeking the shadow. That for which
Paul lived and died so gloriously; that for which Jesus gave himself
to be crucified; the end that animated the thousand martyrs and
heroes who have followed his steps, was to redeem us from a formal
religion, and teach us to seek our welbbeing in the formation of the
soul. The whole world was full of idols and ordinances. The
Jewish was a religion of forms. The Pagan was a religion of forms ;
V

322 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

it was all body — it had no life — and the Almighty God was pleased
to qualify and send forth a man to teach men that they must serve
him with the heart; that only that life was religious which was
thoroughly good ; that sacrifice was smoke, and forms were shadows.
This man lived and died true to this purpose ; and now, with his
blessed word and life before us, Christians must contend that it is a
matter of vital importance — really a duty, to commemorate him by
a certain form, whether that form be agreeable to their understandings
or not.

Is not this to make vain the gift of God ? Is not this to turn
back the hand on the dial ? Is not this to make men — to make
ourselves — forget that not forms, but duties; not names, but
righteousness and love are enjoined; and that in the ej^e of God
there is no other measure of the value of any one form than the
measure of its use ?

From his affectionate letter of farewell to his
congregation a few touching and beautiful sen-
tences are here given :

And, more than this, I rejoice to believe that my ceasing to
exercise the pastoral office among you does not make any real
change in our spiritual relation to each other. Whatever is most
desirable and excellent therein, remains to us. For, truly speaking,
whoever provokes me to a good act or thought, has given me a
pledge of his fidelity to virtue, — he has come under bonds to adhere
to that cause to which we are jointly attached. And so I say to all
you who have been my counsellors and cooperators in our Christian
walk, that I am wont to see in your faces the seals and certificates
of our mutual obligations. If we have conspired from week to wee
in the sympathy and expression of devout sentiments ; if we have
received together the unspeakable gift of God's truth ; if we have
studied together the sense of any divine word ; or striven together
in any charity ; or conferred together for the relief or instruction of
any brother ; if together we have laid down the dead in a pious
hope ; ol: held up the babe into the baptism of Christianity ; above

SPEECH IN MANCHESTER. 323

all, if we have shared in any habitual acknowledgment of that
benignant God, whose omnipresence raises and glorifies the meanest
offices and the lowest ability, and opens heaven in every heart that
worships him, — then indeed are we united, we are mutually debtors
to each other of faith and hope, engaged to persist and confirm each
other's hearts in obedience to the Gospel. We shall not feel that the
nominal changes and little separations of this world can release us
from the strong cordage of this spiritual bond. And I entreat you
to consider how truly blessed will have been our connexion, if in
this manner, the memory of it shall serve to bind each one of- us
more strictly to the practice of our several duties.

Speech in Manchester.

This speech (referred to in Memoir, p. 50)
was delivered at a soiree, held under the auspices
of the Manchester Atheneeum, at the Free Trade
Hall, in November, 1847, under the presidency of
Sir A. Alison, the historian, and at which Richard
Cobden and other political leaders were present.
Of this meeting Mr. Emerson says in his " English
Traits:" "A few days after my arrival in Man-
chester, in November, 1847, the Manchester Athe-
n^neum gave its annual banquet in the Free Trade
Hall. With other guests, I was invited to be
present, and to address the company. In looking
over recently a newspaper report of my remarks, I
inclined to reprint it as fully expressing the feeling
with which I entered England, and which agrees
well enough with the more deliberate results of

324 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

better acquaintanpce recorded in the foregoing
pages. Sir Archibald Ah'son, the historian, pre-
sided, and opened the meeting with a speech. He
was followed by Mr. Cobden, Lord Brackley, and
others, among whom was Mr. Cruikshank, one of
the contributors to ' Punch.' Mr. Dickens's letter
of apology for his absence was read. Mr. Jerrold,
who had been announced, did not appear."

Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, — It is pleasant to me to meet
this great and brilliant company, and doubly pleasant to see the
faces of so many distinguished persons on this platform. But I have
known all these persons already. When I was at home they were
as near to me as they are to you. The arguments of the League and
its leader are known to all the friends of trade. The gaieties and
genius, the political, the social, the parietal wit of "Punch" go
duly every fortnight to every boy and girl in Boston and New
York. Sir, when I came to sea I found the " History of Europe"
on the ship's cabin table, the property of the captain; a sort of
progi-amme or playbill to tell the seafaring New Englander what he
shall find on his landing here. And as for Dombey, sir, there is no
land where paper exists to print on where it is not found ; no man
who can read that does not read it; and if he cannot he finds some
charitable pair of eyes that can, and hears it. But these things are
not for me to say; these compliments, though true, would better
come from one who felt and understand these merits more. I am
not here to exchange civilities with you, but rather to speak of that
which I am sure interests these gentlemen more than their own
praises; of that which is good ia holidays and working days, the
same in one century and in another century. That which lures a
solitary American in the woods with a wish to see England is the
moral peculiarity of the Saxon race, its commanding sense of right
and wrong, the love and devotion to that — this is the imperial trait

SPEECH IN MANCHESTER. 325

which arms them with the sceptre of the "globe. It is this which
lies at the foundation of that aristocratic character which certainly
wanders into strange vagaries, so that its origin is often lost sight
of, but which, if it should lose this, would find itself paralysed; and
in trade, and in the mechanic's shop, gives that honesty in perform-
ance, that thoroughness and solidity of work, which is a national
characteristic. This conscience is one element, and the other is
that loyal adhesion, that habit of friendship, that homage of man to
man, running through all classes — the electing of worthy persons to
a certain fraternity, to acts of kindness and warm and staunch
support, from year to year, from youth to age, which is alike lovely
and honourable to those who render and those who receive it ;
which stands in strong contrast with the superficial attachments of
other races, their excessive courtesy, and short-lived connection.
You will think me very pedantic, gentlemen, but, holiday though it
be, I have not the smallest interest in any holiday, except as it
celebrates real and not pretended joys ; and I think it just, in this
time of gloom and commercial disaster, of affliction and beggary in
these districts, that, on these very accounts I speak of, you should
not fail to keep your literary anniversary. I seem to hear you say
that, for all that is come and gone yet, we will not reduce by one
chaplet or one oak leaf the braveries of our annual feast. For I
must tell you, I was given to understand in my childhood, that the
British island from which my forefathers came was no lotus garden,
no paradise of serene sky and roses, and music and merriment all
the year round ; no, but a cold, foggj', mournful country, where
nothing grew well in the open air, but robust men and virtuous
women, and these of a wonderful fibre and endurance ; that their
best parts were slowly revealed ; their virtues did not come out
until they quarrelled — they did not strike twelve the first time ;
good lovers, good haters, and you could know little about them till
you had seen them long, and little good of them till you had seen
them in action ; that in prosperity they were moody and dumpish,
but in adversity they were grand. Is it not true, sir, that the
wise ancients did not praise the ship parting with flying colours
from the port, but only that brave sailer which came back with

326 RALPH WALDO EMEIZSON.

lorn sheets and battered sides, stripped of her banners, but having
ridden out the storm ? And so, gentlemen, I feel in regard to
this aged England, with her possessions, honours, and trophies, and
also with the infirmities of a thousand years gathering around her,
irretrievably committed as she now is to many old customs which
cannot be suddenly changed ; pressed upon by the transitions of
trade, and new and all incalculable modes, fabrics, arts, machines,
and competing populations — I see her not dispirited, not weak, but
well remembering that she has seen dark days before ; indeed, with
a kind of instinct that she sees a little better in a cloudy day, and
that in storm of battle and calamity she has a secret vigour and a
pulse like a cannon. I see her in her old age, not decrepit, but
young, and still daring to believe in her power of endurance and
expansion. Seeing this, I say, All hail ! mother of nations, mother
of heroes, with strength still equal to the time ; still wise to enter-
tain and swift to execute the policy which the mind and heart of man-
kind requires in the present hour, and thus only hospitable to the
foreigner, and truly a home to the thoughtful and generous who are
born in the soil. So be it ! so let it be. If it be not so, if the
courage of England goes with the chances of a commercial crisis, I
will go back to the capes of Massachusetts, and my own Indian
stream, and say to my own countrymen, the old race are all gone,
and the elasticity and hope of mankind must henceforth remain on
the Alleghany ranges, or nowhere.

Robert Burns.

This speech was delivered before the Boston
Burns Ckib, 25th January, 1859. The effect pro-
duced by it upon his audience is described by Mr.
Lowell (Memoir, p. 92), and by Judge Hoar,
(Tributes, p. 224).

Mr. President and Gentlemen, — I do not know by what untoward
accident it has chanced — and I forbear to inquire — that, in this

SPEECH ON ROBERT BURNS. 327

accomplished circle, it should fall to me, the worst Scotsman of all,
to receive your commands, and at the latest hour, too, to respond to
the sentiment just offered, and which indeed makes the occasion.
But I am told there is no appeal, and I must trust to the inspiration
of the theme to make a fitness which does not otherwise exist.

Yet, sir, I heartily feel the singular claims of the occasion. At
the first announcement, from I know not whence, that the 25th of
January was the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Robert
Burns, a sudden consent warmed the great English race, in all its
kingdoms, colonies, and states, all over the world, to keep the
festival.

We are here to hold our parliament with love and poesy, as men
were wont to do in the middle ages. Those famous parliaments
might or might not have had more stateliness, and better singers
than we — though that is yet to be known — but they could not have
better reason.

I can only explain this singular unanimity in a race which rarely
acts together, but rather after their watchword, each for himself —
by the fact that Robert Burns, the poet of the middle class, repre-
sents in the mind of men to-day that great uprising of the middle
class against the armed and privileged minorities — that uprising
which worked politically in the American and French Revolutions,
and which, not in governments so much as in education and in social
order, has changed the face of the world.

In order for this destiny, his birth, breeding, and fortune were
low. His organic sentiment was absolute independence, and resting,
as it should, on a life of labour. No man existed who could look
down on him. They that looked into his eyes saw that they might
look down the sky as easily. His muse and teaching was common
sense, joyful, aggressive, irresistible.

Not Latimer, not Luther, struck more telling blows against false
theology than did this brave singer. The ' ' Confession of Augsburg,"
the "Declaration of Independence," the French " Rights of Man,"
and the "Marseillaise" are not more weighty documents in the
history of freedom than the songs of Burns. His satire has lost
none of its edge. His musical arrows yet sing through the air.

328 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

He is so substantially a reformer, that I find his grand plain sense
in close chain with the greatest masters — Rabelais, Shakespeare in
comedy, Cervantes, Butler, and Burns. If I should add another
name, I find it only in a living countryman of Burns. He is an
exceptional genius. The people who care nothing for literature and
poetry care for Burns. It was indifferent — they thought who saw
him — whether he wrote verse or not ; he could have done anything
else as well.

Yet how true a poet is he ! and the poet, too, of poor men, of
grey hodden, and the guernsey coat, and the blouse. He has
given voice to all the experiences of common life ; he has endeared
the farm-house and cottage, patches and poverty, beans and barley ;
ale, the poor man's wine ; hardship, the fear of debt, the dear
society of weans and wife, of brothers and sisters, proud of each
other, knowing so few, and finding amends for want and obscurity
in books and thought. What a love of nature, and, shall I say it ?
of middle-class nature. Not great like Goethe in the stars, or like
Byron on the ocean, or INIoore in the luxurious East, but in the
lonely landscape which the poor see around them, bleak leagues of
pasture and stubble, ice, and sleet, and rain, and snow-choked
brooks; birds, hares, field-mice, thistles and heather, which he daily
knew. How many "Bonnie Doons," and "John Anderson, my
joes," and "Auld Langsynes," all round the earth have his verses
been applied to ! And his love songs still woo and melt the youths
and maids ; the farm- work, the country holiday, the fishing coble,
are still his debtors to-day. And as he was thus the poet of poor,
anxious, cheerful, working humanity, so he had the language of low
life. He grew up in a rural district, speaking a patois unintelligible
to all but natives, and he has made that lowland Scotch a Doric
dialect of fame. It is the only example in history of a language
made classic by the genius of a single man. But more than this,
he had that secret of genius, to draw from the bottom of society
the strength of its speech, and astonish the ears of the polite with
these artless words, better than art, and filtered of all offence through
his beauty. It seemed odious to Luther that the devil should have
all the best tunes ; he would bring them into the churches ; and

ADDRESS ON SIR WALTER SCOTT. 329

Burns knew how to take from fairs and gypsies, blacksmiths and
drovers, the speech of the market and street, and clothe it with
melody. But I am detaining you too long. The memory of Burns —
I am afraid heaven and earth have taken too good care of it, to
leave us anything to say. The west winds are murmuring it. Open
the windows behind you, and hearken for the incoming tide what
the waves say of it. The doves perching always on the eaves of
the stone chapel opposite may know something of it. Every
name in broad Scotland keeps his fame bright. The memory of
Burns — every man's and boy's, and girl's head carries snatches of
his songs, and can say them by heart, and, what is strangest of all,
never learned them from a book, but from mouth to mouth. The
wind whispers them, the birds whistle them, the corn, barley, and
bulrushes hoarsely rustle them ; nay, the music-boxes at Geneva are
framed and toothed to play them ; the hand organs of the Savoyards
in all cities repeat them, and the chimes of bells ring them in the
spires. They are the property and the solace of mankind.

Sir Walter Scott.

The following address was spoken by Emerson
at the commemorative recognition of Sir Walter
Scott, on 15 th August, 1871 : —

The memory of Sir Walter Scott is dear to this Society, of which
he was for ten years an honorary member. If only as an eminent
antiquary who has shed light on the history of Europe and of the
English race, he had high claims to our regard. But to the rare
tribute of a centennial anniversary of his birthday, which we gladly
join with Scotland and indeed with Europe to keep, he is not less
entitled — perhaps he alone among the literary men of this century
is entitled — by the exceptional debt which all English-speaking men
have gladly owed to his character and genius. I think no modern
writer has inspired his readers with such affection to his own per-
sonality. I can well remember as far back as when " The Lord of

330 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

the Isles" was first republished in Boston, in 1815, — my own and my
schoolfellows' joy in the book. "Marmion" and "The Lay" had
gone before, but we were then learning to spell. In the face of the
later novels, we still claim that his poetry is the delight of boys.
But this means that when we reopen these old books, we all consent
to be boys again. We tread over our youthful grounds with joy.
Critics have found them to be only rhymed prose. But I believe
that many of those who read them in youth, when, later, they come
to dismiss finally their school-days' library, will make some fond
exception for Scott as for Byron.

It is easy to see the origin of his poems. His own ear had been
charmed by old ballads crooned by Scottish dames at firesides, and
written down from their lips by antiquaries ; and, finding them now
outgrown and dishonoured by the new culture, he attempted to
dignify and adapt them to the times in which he lived. Just so
much thought, so much picturesque detail in dialogue or description
as the old l:)allad required, so much suppression of details, and
leaping to the event, he would keep and use, but without any ambi-
tion to write a high poem after a classic model. He made no
pretension to the lofty style of Spenser, or Milton, or Wordsworth.
Compared with their purified songs, — purified of all ephemeral
colour or material, — his were vers de societc. But he had the skill
proper to vers de societc, — skill to fit his verse to his topic, and not
to write solemn pentameters alike on a hero or a spaniel. His good
sense probably elected the ballad, to make his audience larger. He
apprehended in advance the immense enlargement of the reading
public, which almost dates from the era of his books, — an event
which his books and Byron's inaugurated ; and which, though until
tlien unheard of, has become familiar to the present time.

If the success of his poems, however large, was partial, that of
his novels was complete. The tone of strength in " Waverley" at
once announced the master, and was more than justified by the
superior genius of the following romances, up to the " Bride of
Lammermoor," which almost goes back to /Eschylus, for a coun-
terpart, as a painting of Fate, — leaving on every reader the impres-
sion of the highest and purest tragedy.

ADDRESS ON SIR WALTER SCOTT. 331

His power on the public mind rests on the singular union of two
influences. By nature, by his reading and taste, an aristocrat, in a
time and country which easily gave him that bias, lie had the virtues
and graces of that class, and by his eminent humanity and his love
of labour escaped its harm. He saw in the English Church the
symbol and seal of all social order ; in the historical aristocracy,
the benefits to the state which Burke claimed for it ; and in his
own reading and research, such store of legend and renown as
won his imagination to their cause. Not less his eminent humanity
delighted in the sense and virtue and wit of the common people.
In his own household and neighbours he found characters and pets
of humble class, with whom he established the best relation, — •
small farmers and tradesmen, shepherds, fishermen, gypsies, peasant-
girls, crones, — and came with these into real ties of mutual help and
good-will. From these originals he drew so genially his Jeannie
Deans, his Dinmonts and Edie Ochiltrees, Caleb Balderstone and
Fairservice, Cuddie Headriggs, Dominies, Meg Merrilies, and
Jeannie Rintherouts, full of life and reality ; making these, too, the
pivots on which the plots of his stories turn ; and meantime without
one word of brag of this discernment, — nay, this extreme sympathy
reaching down to every beggar and beggar's dog, and horse and
cow. In the number and variety of his characters, he approaches
Shakespeare. Other painters in verse or prose have thrown into
literature a few type-figures, as Cervantes, DeFoe, Richardson,
Goldsmith, Sterne, and Fielding ; but Scott portrayed with equal
strength and success every figure in his crowded company.

His strong good sense saved him from the faults and foibles in-
cident to poets, — from nervous egotism, sham modesty, or jealousy.
He played ever a manly part. With such a fortune and such a
genius, we should look to see what heavy toil the Fates took of
him, as of Rousseau or Voltaire, of Swift or Byron. But no : he had
no insanity, or vice, or blemish. He was a thoroughly upright, wise,
and great-hearted man, equal to whatever event or fortune should
try him. Disasters only drove him to immense exertion. What an
ornament and safeguard is humour ! Far better than wit for a poet
and writer. It is a genius itself, and so defends from the insanities.

332 MR. LOWELVS CHARACTERISTICS OF

Under what rare conjunction of stars was this man born, that,
wherever he lived, he found superior men, passed all his life in the
best company, and still found himself the best of the best ! He
was apprenticed at Edinburgh to a Writer to the Signet, and
became a Writer to the Signet, and found himself in his youth and
manhood and age in the society of Mackintosh, Horner, Jeffrey,
Playfair, Dugald Stewart, Sydney Smith, Leslie, Sir William
Hamilton, Wilson, Hogg, De Quincey, — to name only some of his
literary neighbours.

Emerson and Carlyle.

Bv JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

This description of the characteristics of the
two philosophers (Memoir, p. 89) is from "A Fable
for Critics," a sarcastic poem of great pungency,
and extremely witty ; — showing a wonderful facility
of versification.

There comes Emerson first, whose rich words, every one,

Are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on. .

A Greek head on right Yankee shoulders, whose range

Has Olympus for one pole, for t'other the Exchange ;

He seems, to my thinking (although I'm afraid

The comparison must, long ere this, have been made),

A Plotinus-Montaigne, where the Egyptian's gold mist

And the Gascon's shrewd wit cheek-by-jowl co-exist;

All admire, and yet scarcely six converts he's got

To I don't (nor they either) exactly know what ;

For though he builds glorious temples, 'tis odd

He leaves never a doorway to get in a god.

'Tis refreshing to old-fashioned people like me

To meet such a primitive Pagan as he,

EMERSON AND CARLYLE. 333

In whose mind all creation is duly respected

As parts of himself, just a little projected;

And who's willing to worship the stars and the sun,

A convert to — nothing but Emerson.

So perfect a balance there is in his head,

That he talks of things sometimes as if they were dead ;

Life, nature, love, God, and affairs of that sort,

He looks at as merely ideas ; in short,

As if they were fossils stuck round in a cabinet,

Of such vast extent that our earth's a mere dab in it ;

Composed just as he is inclined to conjecture her —

Namely, one part pure earth, ninety-nine parts pure lecturer;

You are filled with delight at his clear demonstration.

Each figure, word, gesture just fits the occasion.

With the quiet precision of science he'll sort 'em,

But you can't help suspecting the whole z. post inortem.

There are persons, mole-blind to the soul's make and style.

Who insist on a likeness 'twixt him and Carlyle ;

To compare him with Plato would be vastly fairer,

Carlyle's the more burly, but E. is the rarer;

He sees fewer objects, but clearlier, truelier —

If C.'s an original, E.'s more peculiar;

That he's more of a man you might say of the one,

Of the other he's more of an Emerson;

C.'s the Titan, as shaggy of mind as of limb —

E., the clear-eyed Olympian, rapid and slim;

The one's two-thirds Norseman, the other half Greek,

W^here the one's most abounding, the other's to seek ;

C.'s generals require to be seen in the mass, —

E.'s specialities gain if enlarged by the glass ;

C. gives nature and God his own fits of the blues.

And rims common-sense things with mystical hues, —

E, sits in a mystery calm and intense.

And looks coolly around him with sharp common-sense;

C. shews you how every-day matters unite

With the dim transdiurnal recesses of night, —

334 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

While E. in a plain, preternatural way,

Makes mysteries matters of mere every day.

E. is rather like Flaxman, lines straight and severe.

And a colourless outline, but full, round, and clear ; —

To the men he thinks worthy he frankly accords

The design of a white marble statue in words.

C. labours to get at the centre, and then

Take a reckoning from there of his actions and men ;

E. calmly assumes the said centre as granted.

And, given himself, has whatever is wanted.

Articles on Emerson in English and
American Periodicals.

Emerson, R. W. (R. Buchanan) Broadway, 2 : 223. — (J. Bur-
roughs) Galaxy, 21 : 254, 543. — (Delia M. Colton) Continental
Monthly, i : 49. — (G. Gilfillan) Tait's Magazine, New Series,
15 : 17.— (J. O'Connor) Catholic World, 27 : 90.— (G.
Prentice) Methodist Quarterly, 24 : 357.— Dublin Review,
26: 152. — North British Review, 47: 319. — Westminster
Review, 33: 345. — Same art., Living Age, 16: 97. — Black-
wood, 62 : 643. — (F. H. Underwood) North American
Review, 130 : 485.

Address, July, i8j8. Boston Quarterly, i : 500.

Address on Forefathers' Day. (I. N. Tarbox) New Eng-

lander, 30 : 175.

and his Writings. (G. Barmby) Howitt's Journal, 2 :

315. — Christian Review, 26 : 640.

and History. Southern Literary Messenger, 18: 249.

and iMndor. Living Age, 52: 371.

and the Pantheists. (H. Hemming) New Dominion

Monthly, 8 : 65.
and Transcendentalism. American Whig Review, i : 233.

ARTICLES ON EMERSON. 335

Emerson and Spencer and Martineau. (W. R. Alger) Christian
Examiner, S4 : 257.

Conduct of Life. (N. Porter) New Englander, 19 : 496. —

Eclectic Review, 46 : 365.

Cull lire of Eraser, 78: I. Same art., Living Age, 98:358.

• Essays. Democratic Review, 16: 589.— Eclectic JNIagazine,

18: 546.— Living Age, 4: 139; 23: 344.— {C. C. Felton)
Christian Examiner, 30: 252. — Eclectic Review, 76: 667. —
Boston Quarterly, 4 : 391. — Biblical Review, i : 148. — Eclectic
Review, 76 ; 667. — Prospective Review, i : 252. — Tait's
Magazine, new series, 8 : 666.
■ Eacls abotil. Chambers's Journal, 21 : 3S2.

Homes and ILaunts of , with illustrations. (F. B. Sanborn)

Scribner, 17 : 496.

Lectures al JManchesler, England. Howitt's Journal, 2: 370.

and his Visit lo Scotland. Douglas Jerrold's Shilling

Magazine, April, 1848.

lectures and Writings of. Every Saturday, 3 : 680 ; 4 : 381.

Letters and Social Aims. International Review, 3: 249.

Ne-iU Lectures. New Englander, 8 : 166.— Christian Review,

15 : 249.

Poems of. (C. E. Norton) Nation, 4 : 430. — American

Whig Review, 6 : 197. — (C. A. Bartol) Christian Examiner,
42 : 250. — Southern Literary Messenger, 13 : 292. — Brownson,
4: 262. — Democratic Review, i : 319. — Christian Remem-
brancer, 15 : 300.

Prose IVorks. Catholic World, 11 : 202.

— Recent Lectures a7id Writings. Eraser, 75 : 586. — Same

art.. Living Age, 93: 581.
R. W. Representative Men. (C. A. Bartol) Christian

Examiner, 48 : 314. — Eclectic Review, 95 : 56S. — British

Quarterly, 11 : 281.

Society and Solitude. Eraser, 82 : i.

Writings. (F. H. Hedge) Christian Examiner, 38 : 87. —

(J. W. Alexander) Princeton Review, 13 : 539.

336 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Books, PAMPnLp:TS, &c.

Emerson : His Life and Writings. By January Searle : London,
pp. 48, 1855.

Ralph Waldo Emerson : His Life, Writings, and Philosophy. By
George Willis Cooke. Boston : Osgood. London : Sampson
Low, Marston, & Co. 1881.

Ralph Waldo Emerson : Philosopher and Poet. By Alfred H.
Guernsey. New York : Appleton, 1881 (Appleton's New
Handy-Volume Series).

Transcendentalism in New England : A History ; by Octavius
Brooke Frothingham. New York : 1880.

In Memoriam ; Ralph Waldo Emerson : Recollections of his Visits
to England in 1833, 1847-8, and 1872-3. — Extracts from un-
published Letters, &c. By Alexander Ireland, ist Edition,
pp. 120 ; 2nd Edition, pp. 346, with Three Portraits. 1882.
London : Simpkin, Marshall, & Co.

Emerson at Home and Abroad : By M. D. Conway (announced for
publication in Nov., 1882). London : Triibner & Co.

Correspondence between Emerson and Carlyle, from 1833, edited
by Mr. C. E. Norton, is announced as in preparation,

"The Literary W^orld " (Boston) of i\Iay 22nd, 1880, devotes
twelve pages to Emerson, consisting of articles upon him in
his various aspects. — The Man, by C. A. Bartol ; The Founder
of a Literature, by T. W. Higginson ; The Philosopher and
Poet, by F. H. Hedge; His Books, by Walt Whitman ; "The
Dial," by G. W. Curtis; His Friends, by F. B. Sanborn;
College Days, by W. Bancroft Hill ; Literary Methods, by
G. W. Cooke; His Home, Tributes, Table-Talk, Biblio-
graphy, &c.

Magazine Articles, &c., since his Death.

Emerson's Gospel : The Religion of Nature. By the Rev. R.
Heber Newton, a discourse delivered in All Souls' Church,
New York, May 28th, 1882.

ARTICLES ON EMERSON. 337

Illustrated London News. Memoir (with full-page portrait), May

6th, 1882.
The Graphic. Brief Memoir (with full-page portrait), May 6th, 1882.
Ralph Waldo Emerson : by M. D. Conway. [In this article, Mr.

Conway proves that Emerson advocated and set forth the

doctrine of Evolution five years before the appearance of

Darwin's and Wallace's papers on the subject in the Journal of

the Linn^an Society, 1858.] — "Fortnightly Review," June,

1882.
Emerson in England, by M. D. Conway. — "Harper's Weekly,"

June loth, 1882.
Emerson as a Poet, by Edwin P. Whipple. — "North American

Review," July, 1S82.
Emerson's Personality, by Emma Lazarus. — " The Century," July,

1882 (with engraving of bust).
Ralph Waldo Emerson, by Julian Hawthorne. — " Harper's Monthly

Magazine," July, 1882 (with portrait).
Some Recollections of Ralph Waldo Emerson, by Edwin P. Whipple.

—Ditto, September, 1882.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, by W. T. Harris.— "Atlantic Monthly,"

August, 1882 (with portrait).
Ralph Waldo Emerson: A Letter to the Editor. — "The Modern

Review," October, 1882.

Foreign Translations of, and Articles
ON, Emerson.

Edgar Quinet, in a volume of Lectures on " Christianity and the
French Revolution," 1845, devotes one to " America and
the Reformation," in which he thus expresses his opinion of
Emerson : — " In this North America, which is pictured to us
as so materialistic, I find the most ideal writer of our times.
Contrast the formulas of German Philosophy with the inspira-
tion, the initiative, the moral ela>i of Emerson. The author
I have just named is proof enough that bold pioneers are at
W

338 RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

work in America pursuing the quest of truth in the moral
world. What we announce in Europe from the summit of
a revived past, he also announces from the germinating
solitude of a world absolutely new. On the virgin soil of the
new world behold the footsteps of a man, and a man who is
moving toward the future by the same road that we are
going."

In the " Revue Independante," 1846, the Countess D'Agoult, under
her pseudonym of "Daniel Stern," has an article on "The
Literary Tendencies of America," in which Emerson is highly
appreciated. Philarete Chasles also wrote about him.

Emile Montegut, in the " Revue des Deux Mondes," has written
on Emerson in an article entitled "An American Thinker and
Poet," 1847. "Hero Worship : Emerson and Carlyle," 1S50.
" English Character judged by an American," 1S56.

Herman Grimm, in 1857, published a translation of Emerson's
"Goethe" and "Shakespeare" in "Representative Men,"
with a criticism on his writings. Some sentences from this
criticism, as well as from another work by the same author,
"New Essays," will be found at page 117, "Memoir."

H. Wolff gives a life of Emerson in a Dutch work, published at
Bois le Due, 1S71, entitled " Prophets of Modern Date."

Addendum. — The portrait of Emerson taken
by David Scott in Edinburgh in 1848 (Recollec-
tions, p. 161), is in the possession of the widow of
the late Dr. Samuel Brown. This lady is resident

in Edinburgh.

MANXHESTF.R I

A. IRELAND AND CO., PRINTERS,

PALL MALL.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS, &c.

Daily News.

The remarkable memoir of Emerson contributed by Mr.
Alexander Ireland to the Manchester Examiner and Ti?nes on
the day after the news of the illustrious essayist's death reached
England has been enlarged to more than three times its original
length, and is now published in a volume. The new and addi-
tional matter, which is not the least interesting part of the work,
is chiefly composed of extracts from unpublished letters and per-
sonal recollections of Emerson during his visits to England in
1833, 1847-8, and 1872-3. A Hst of articles on Emerson and his
writings in English and American periodicals, and of foreign
articles on the same subject, completes the book.

London Daily Telegi-aph.

One of the most intelligent and appreciative memoirs of the
late Ralph Waldo Emerson was from the pen of Mr. Alexander
Ireland. Reprinted with additions, which extend it to more than
three times its original length, this critical biography is now
published in book form, with many personal recollections, and
will no doubt take its place in all libraries that have welcomed the
works of the foremost thinker of the New World.

Illustrated London News.

This is by far the most life-like biographical memoir, with the
most satisfactory appreciative estimate of the genius of Emerson,

which has appeared. Mr. Ireland's personal recollections of
Emerson are novel, characteristic, and full of significance. . . .
From sundry American periodicals are given anecdotes that might
else be lost to readers in this country. . . . This work will
be peculiarly acceptable to all who may take concern, now or here-
after, in one of the most original of didactic authors. . . .
We cannot doubt that his essays, lectures, and poems will be
studied by a future generation, and many a fragrant sentence of
his ripe ethical wisdom be cherished in the minds of our posterity.

Athenaum.

No Englishman has a better claim than Mr. Ireland to write
a inemoir of Emerson. He made Emerson's acquaintance as long
ago as 1837, when "the lonely way-faring man," as Carlyle called
him, visited Edinburgh in the course of his first visit to Europe. It
was, too, mainly at Mr. Ireland's instance that Emerson returned
to England in 1847 and delivered lectures in various parts of the
kingdom; and when Emerson was quitting this country in 1873
his last resting-place in England was Mr. Ireland's house in
Cheshire. . . . Among the letters many are interesting,
especially those addressed to Carlyle, in which there is a notable
passage regarding the Civil War. . . . Emerson's tone with
regard to "Friedrich" is more enthusiastic than one might expect.

Academy.

No book could well be more unpretentious than Mr. Ireland's
pleasant little monograph, which does not profess to be either a
formal biography of Emerson or an adequate criticism of his
work. . . . For those admirers and disciples of Emerson
who make large personal demands upon their literary hero, there
is clearly no such stock of disappointment in store as that which
awaited enthusiastic worshippers of Carlyle in the pages of his own
Reminiscences, and of Mr. Froude's record of his earlier years.
Everything that has so far been said or written concerning Emerson
testifies to the beautiful graciousness and gentleness of his nature,
to the utter absence from it of irritating roughness and humiliating
affectations, its harmonious exhibition of all ' ' things lovely and of
good report." The unanimous verdict is amply supported by Mr.

Ireland's book, and the writer may claim to speak with the authority
conferred by the close intimacy which grew out of a friendship
extending over nearly half-a-century. . . . Mr. Ireland gives
several of the letters despatched from Concord to Chelsea between
the years 1859 and 1864, which have an almost pathetic interest.
Emerson's loyalty to his friend never wavered, but there is a tone
of wistful sadness mingled with the large magnanimity of his protests
against Carlyle's blind antagonism to a cause which Emerson knew
to be the cause of liberty and progress ; and it is more than possible
that Carlyle's after-acknowledgment of his error may have resulted
from doubts first suggested by his friend's searching remonstrances.
There is a singularly attractive unity in the impression stamped
upon the mind by these letters from Emerson's pen, by the
characteristic anecdotes with which Mr. Ireland brightens his
pages, and by the testimonies concerning him given by those who
knew him best — the impression of a soul of rare brevity, tran-
sparency, and simplicity.

Saturday Review.

The substance of Mr. Alexander Ireland's tribute to the
memory of Emerson appeared, in the first instance, in the
Manchester Exatniner a7id Thnes, from which it is reprinted with
large additions. Mr. Ireland begins by giving a brief and clear
sketch of Emerson's earlier years, and goes on to speak of the
effect of his first lectures in London, which, he says, were listened
to with breathless attention and created all-absorbing interest.
" He uttered his convictions with a daring independence, and gave
his judgments with a decisiveness of tone and earnest solemnity of
manner," making his audience "feel as if he had got them well
in hand, and did not mean to let them go without giving them
his ' mind. ' " At first the listener perceived or feared a certain
monotony of expression ; but as the speaker went on this dis-
appeared, and the lecturer's command over his audience steadily
increased until, ha\'ing finished, he " took up his MS. and quietly
glided away, disappearing before his audience could give vent to
their applause." We may imagine that Emerson's lectures, like
his essays, were elaborated with extreme care. Mr. Ireland
quotes a statement bearing upon this, according to which it was

Emerson's " wont to jot down his thoughts at all hours and places.
The suggestions resulting from his readings, conversations, and
meditations, were immediately transferred to the note-book he
always carried with him." Then these jottings were gradually
welded into a whole, and then the manuscript was ' ' revised again
and again ; corrected, wrought over, portions dropped, new matter
added, or the paragraphs arranged in a new order." Mr. Ireland's
personal reminiscences and the extracts which he gives from
hitherto unpublished letters have a special interest.

Litwaiy lVo7-ld.

We obtain some very pleasant peeps, through this memorial
volume, into the life and character of Emerson. From what Mr.
Ireland tells us about him, he was one of the most faithful,
agreeable, and interesting of men. Mr. Ireland has rendered
very pleasant service to his old friend's memory by the publication
of these deeply interesting recollections.

Inquirer,

It is an exceedingly welcome and valuable memento of the
brilliant writer and splendid man who so recently passed from the
world.

Unitarian Herald.

Admirers of Emerson owe a deep debt of gratitude to Mr.
Ireland, for one of the most interesting and delightful tributes to
the memory of Emerson which has appeared. . . . These
reminiscences serve to confirm the estimate universally formed of
the loveableness of Emerson's character. . . . Altogether,
Mr. Ireland's In Memoriam makes an eminently pleasing and
genial book, especially for the light it throws on the winsomeness
of Emerson's personality.

Bookseller.

No more welcome and worthy contribution to our store of
information regarding this great man is there likely to be than the
most excellent book of Mr. Ireland. . . . No writer needs

\

more than he, the aid and light of personal acquaintanceship. . . .
An author's portrait is a vast help to the understanding of him,
and of none is this more true than of Emerson. This is one
chief value of Mr. Ireland's book : it gives the fullest delineation
of Emerson, the citizen, the philosopher, and the public talker,
we so far possess.

Nonconformist and Independent.

The additions to the Memoir consist in a very interesting
group of personal recollections, a series of valuable letters written
to Carlyle at intervals during the publication of his " Life of
Friedrich," besides other letters, pleasant and affectionate
mementoes of personal friendship and interchanges of hospitality
addressed to Mr. Ireland himself. The sketch is, as may be
expected, fluently and skilfully drawn, and is well calculated to
confirm and heighten the interest which is so widely felt in Emerson's
writings and character, and to raise expectations which must in
due time be satisfied by the publication of his memoir, his corre-
spondence, and his posthumous writings.

Manchester Examiner and Times.

Mr. Ireland's little book is for its purpose infinitely better
than many a recent long-winded and portentous biography which
it would be quite easy to name. . . . What is offered to us,
and what we gladly receive, is a series of precious recollections
drawn from the casket of a well-stored memory, and strung together
by a hand which is both loving and judicious. Granted in one's
own mind a certain amount of interest in Emerson and in his
writings, and there is not, we venture to think, a line in the book
which will be left unread. The personal recollections and the
letters — simple and informal — which Mr. Ireland was fortunate
enough to receive from his distinguished friend, are the most
valuable part of the book ; and as we read them it is impossible
not to feel how much we should have lost if such excellent materials
had either been neglected or withheld.

8

swift and fertile brain used to crystallise so readily, and they are,
moreover, pleasant proof of the cordial relations which subsisted
between the two Seers. . . . The letter which Mr. Emerson
wrote to Mr. Ireland, directly after his visit, describing his pil-
grimage to the Carlyles in their moorland home at Craigenputtock,
is of peculiar interest, as indeed are many of the incidents of his
English visits. . . . Disciples and admirers of Emerson will
feel grateful to Mr. Ireland for the careful and complete way in
which he has put these memorials together.

Sheffield Independent,

Mr. Ireland has made every disciple and lover of Emerson
his debtor, and there are few who have read that great American's
writings, whose style has been compared to home-spun cloth of
gold, who will not hasten to possess themselves of this volume.

Sheffield Telegraph.

We have to thank Mr. Ireland for a charming book about a
charming man. ... To many who may have known Emerson
only from his works as the author of sayings that for the moment
flashed a gleam as of lightning into the darkest recesses of thought,
he will, through the volume of his friend, Mr. Ireland, become
known not merely as a seer, or prophet, but as a model of quiet
manliness and kindly practical wisdom. Men who have treasured
his crisp and crj'stalline sentences will be glad to know that they
were in correspondence with a life as crystal clear. "He who
would write great poems must live them," runs an old saying ; and
in the case of Emerson at least, it is clear from this volume that
his philosophy, high, pure, and kindly, was the outcome of a life
that in every point corresponded. . . . Besides a number of
interesting letters, never before printed, and his own personal
reminiscences of Emerson during his three visits to England, Mr.
Ireland gives a number of "Miscellaneous Records" of the best
things which have been written and said about his life-long friend ;
and a list is also given of all the principal articles on Emerson in
English and American periodicals. Altogether, the work is
extremely well done. Mr. Ireland has, on the one hand, exercised

severe self-suppression, and on the other, he has brought together
a great mass of information and opinions which will be welcome to
all old-admirers of Emerson, and will also excite admiration among
many to whom his quiet and uneventful, but noble and dignified
life, has hitherto been but little known.

Newcastle Daily Chronicle.

The author of that interesting work, entitled " Reminiscences
of Oriel College, and the Oxford Movement," conceives that at the
best " Recollections " must share the common infirmities of mortal
memories. There are, however, circumstances in which they so
imprint themselves on the tablets of the hearts as to secure absolute
fidelity in reproduction. This is the character of the " Recollec-
tions " which Mr. Alexander Ireland has just given to the world.
. . . It would have been a misfortune had we lost what Mr.
Ireland has just published, for, despite the caveat of the Rev. T.
Mozley, these " Recollections " are eminently authentic.

Newcastle Weekly Chronicle.

It was the good fortune of the author of this volume to enjoy
an unbroken acquaintance and correspondence with the great
Transatlantic speaker, extending over nearly fifty years. The
memoir contains information that it is difficult to meet with
elsewhere. "The Life, Writings, and Philosophy of Emerson,'
by George Willis Cooke, has missed some points on which Mr.
Ireland dwells at length. . , . All who were ever privileged
to listen to Emerson will recognise at once the beauty and the
accuracy of Mr. Ireland's delineation of Mr. Emerson as a lecturer,
and the effect he produced. It is, in fact, a mental photograph,
and something more. . . . Mr. Ireland has done a service to
biographical literature by the production of the present volume.
It would have been a serious loss to the commonwealth of letters
had his correspondence with the great New England transcen-
dentalist been suppressed. The ability with which our author
has discharged the duty of biographer is not more remarkable
than the modesty that distinguishes these deeply interesting
reminiscences.

lO

North of England Advertiser (Newcastle).

This is a book in the truest sense of the word — one of the
most valuable kind of books — a record of intercourse with a great
mind, and a collection of brief recollections as to the habits and
characteristics of that mind. The last sentence of these " Recol-
lections" should have been the first, affording a key to the intimacy
between the writer and his hero ; — more than this, it is a key to
Emerson's influence : — " Those who have felt throughout their
lives the purifying and elevating power of Emerson's writings, and
who have recognised in his inspiring career the perfect sanity of
true genius, can never think of him without affectionate reverence."
In this spirit of "affectionate reverence " it is that Mr. Ireland has
penned his reminiscence. . . . No Englishman has stood in
the same position towards Emerson as Mr. Ireland, but this gentle-
man has not abused his intimacy by inflated language regarding
his idol ; there are no side whispers of Emerson's esteem for him.
Not wanting enthusiasm, his little volume is modest in size and
style — modest to an excess, in our judgment, when it gives promi-
nence to evidence by others which Mr. Ireland himself could
express in simpler and better terms. Much will be written here-
after as to Emerson, but nothing from a personal point of view of
more value than can be found in these pages.

Edinburgh Daily Review.

The author's desire has been always to keep Emerson before the
reader's eye ; he has carefully resisted the temptation to put him-
self forward, and has avoided digressions which, although they
would have been favourable, would have detracted from the beaut)'
and symmetry of the memoir. Mr. Ireland gives the reader a fine
insight into Emerson's life and character, presents him, it may be,
at his best, and is eulogistic rather than critical ; but there is a
complete absence of fulsome flattery — honest impressions and
snatches from correspondence being left to tell their own tale.
The visits to England, the meetings with Carlyle, and with eminent
men in London, Manchester, and Edinburgh, are charmingly
described, and Mr. Ireland's own impressions of Emerson's
famous lectures are eloquent tributes to the great thinker's
remarkable gifts.

II

Scotsman.

Mr. Ireland has much to tell that is absolutely new, and in
this volume he tells it in a fashion that adds to its intrinsic interest.
Of Mr. Ireland's own personal recollections it may be said that
every line possesses interest and value. In Edinburgh, in 1833, he
acted as Mr. Emerson's cicerone, and was thus thrown into close
companionship with him. He was acute enough to discover that
the visitor (at that time absolutely unknown in the world of letters),
was a man of no ordinary type, and in a journal written at the time,
he entered some memoranda of those conversations. He was
also mainly instrumental in bringing about the lecture tour of
1847-8, which did so much towards making Emerson known on
this side of the Atlantic. ... On the whole it is scarcely
possible that any reader of this volume will fail to acquire from it
much new and valuable information respecting Emerson, or will
rise from its perusal without an increased reverence for the pure,
strong, and lofty-minded thinker.

Chambers^ s Edinburgh Journal.

This little work cannot fail to attract and interest the admirers
of Emerson in this country. It is composed of recollections of his
visits to England in 1833, 1847-8, and 1872-3, and of extracts
firom unpublished letters, to which is prefixed a brief but admirable
biography.

Leicester Chronicle.

There are good reasons for the existence of this volume.
. . . We have no satisfactory short account of Emerson's life,
and we have no account at all of his experience in England. Then
the correspondence, especially the series of his letters to Carlyle,
is characteristic, and therefore very interesting; and lastly, the
miscellaneous records are gathered from sources which were
mostly either unknown or inaccessible to English readers. The
biographical sketch is excellent, Mr. Ireland having succeeded in
giving all the facts concerning Emerson's life and work without
making the narration hea\'y. He is surprisingly familiar with
American sources of information, and has evidently spared no
pains to make his work complete. This may be confidently

12

pronounced the most readable account of Emerson's life that has
been produced. The recollections of his visits to England in
1837, 1847 and 1871 cover entirely new ground, and are, there-
fore, new to English readers, and full of interest. ... Emerson's
works are strength-giving and inspiring beyond almost any books
we know. They can be taken up for a minute or for an hour,
with the certainty of finding new life in the perusal of them. To
use them in the best way, they should be kept Ipng close at hand,
and then many a minute which would have been vacant will be
filled with new thoughts and high resolves. Before reading
Emerson, however, it is well to get some sort of personal
acquaintance with him, and for this purpose Mr. Ireland's
volume will answer admirably; it is just what we have put at
the head of this article — a capital introduction to " Emerson for
English Readers."

Glasgow Citizen.

Mr. Ireland has just compiled a singularly agreeable, instruc-
tive, and valuable volume of reminiscence and biography concerning
the Sage of Concord. . . . Scattered throughout its pages are
sundry glowing tributes to the genius of the great American, written
by men of his own day and generation, and there are also delightful
snatches throughout the book from the tongue or from the pen of
Mr. Emerson himself, which convey the impression of a strikingly
masterful and majestic intellect. . . . Much has been written
about Emerson, and much more will doubtless still be written.
But in the literature concerning him which has hitherto appeared,
there is perhaps no more loving and pleasing memorial than this.

Glasgow Daily Mail.

This is the most charming as well as the most complete
volume that we have yet received on the greatest of American
authors. . . . It is full of the best information as well as of
the finest feeling, and is conceived and executed with admirable
taste. As a bibliographic i-ecord of Emerson's life-work it is
singularly complete ; and it also abounds in deeply-interesting
personal details relating to the man.

13

Dundee Advertiser.

Mr. Ireland has published a delightful volume upon Emerson,
He was fortunate in making the acquaintance of the great
American thinker during his first visit to this country, when
Emerson was a young man unknown to fame, but loved and
admired by all who met him for his graces of character and his
high accomplishments. The intimacy then formed continued
until Emerson's death. Emerson made two subsequent visits to
England, and Mr. Ireland was then in close intercourse with him,
and in addition to this he was in correspondence with him for
many years. He had thus ample opportunity of knowing his
eminent friend intimately, and he has fortunately taken the trouble
to put his impressions together in a book which will be eagerly
read on both sides of the Atlantic, and will be invaluable to
Emerson's biographer. There is no hero-worshipping in the
volume.

Boston (U.S.) Commonwealth.

Mr. Ireland's monograph on Emerson proves even more
interesting than was anticipated. Regarding the doings of the
Concord philosopher in England the book is specially full. It con-
tains considerable information which is found nowhere else. It is
specially valuable for its glimpses of his experiences in England.

Boston Morning Journal.

Mr. Ireland, who had made Mr. Emerson's acquaintance in
Edinburgh in 1833, was the means of persuading the latter to
visit England in 1847-8, to deliver those lectures which were so
eagerly heard by large English audiences, and which added so
much to his reputation, Mr. Ireland was a good deal in Mr.
Emerson's company during his visit, and their acquaintance was
again renewed upon the occasion of Mr. Emerson's last visit in
1872-3. After Mr. Emerson's death, Mr. Ireland collected his
reminiscences of this very delightful acquaintance, and published
them in a volume, which contains — first, a sketch of Mr. Emerson's
life and literary career, and an account of his death and funeral ;
second, a budget of personal . recollections ; and third, selections

H

from letters hitherto unpublished. It is a fact of pleasant sig-
nificance that the first book published in tribute to Mr. Emerson
since his death should be this engaging memorial by his English
admirer and friend. . . . Mr, Emerson wrote to Mr. Ireland
interesting accounts of his first visit to Carlyle and Wordsworth ;
of his social occupations in London, Edinburgh, &c., during his
second visit, A letter is given from Emerson to Carlyle in 1864,
deprecating the strange obstinacy which led the latter to place him-
self on the wrong side in the contest for freedom on these shores.
Mr. Emerson's words burn with patriotism and sympathy with
freedom. , . . Mr. Emerson's manner upon the platform,
and the impression made upon those who listened to him, are
described by Mr, Ireland in these recollections.

Chicago Daily '^Inter-Ocean.''^

In the long list of books which has come to our table this
week, none has been opened more reverently than this beautiful
little volume. . . . The writing is no ordinary production,
and it is to be doubted whether any of the more laboured produc-
tions which will be forthcoming will tell more concisely, more
tenderly, and in more graceful sentences, the grand life of our
loved dead poet and scholar. It is true it is but a sketch, but the
boy, the man, the preacher, the poet, the scholar, the man tower-
ing among men, stands out clearly as a beautiful picture.

LETTERS FROM MR. EMERSON'S SON AND DR.
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

[From a number of letters to the author received from friends
and admirers of Emerson in England as well as America, including
Professor Tyndall, Mr. W. E. Forster, Professor Max Miiller, Lord
Lytton, Dr. J. Hutchison Stirling, Lord Houghton, Mr. Gladstone,
Dr. E. Dowden, Mr. Wm. Allingham, Mr. R. Garnett, Professor

15

Masson, Mr. M, D. Conway, Dr. W. H. Furness, of Philadelphia,
Miss Elizabeth Peabody, of Boston, Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes,
and many others, the two following extracts are given] : —

Concord, August 26th.
I have read your book with my wife, and we enjoyed it, and
are glad that it was written. Particularly pleasant it is to me to
come upon any picture of my father, drawn by another, in the
periods of which we can know so little of him— his earlier visits to
England— of course we have had from his lips or his books what
he saw, but no word of himself. Such a glimpse as you have
given us is what we wish to have. I wish that I might talk with
you and learn more. Perhaps some day you will make your
promised visit to America ; and then be sure it will give us great
pleasure to welcome you to Concord.— Yours most truly,

Edward Waldo Emerson.

Boston, July 2nd, 1882.
I have been waiting until I could send you, in return for your
book, the record of what was said about Emerson at a meeting of
the Massachusetts Historical Society. If any of the remarks made
by any of us can give you anything like the gratification we have
had in reading your most interesting biographical fragment, I
shall feel sure that you have forgiven my delay in acknowledging
your polite attention. — Believe me, my dear sir, very truly yours,

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

PS Ireland, Alexander

1631 Ralph Waldo Emerson

17
1882

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